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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28857723">Love Thy Neighbor Deleted Scenes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/snae_b/pseuds/snae_b'>snae_b</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love Thy Neighbor [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Basically just whatever you want me to write, Blow Jobs, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Cockwarming, Coming Untouched, Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Deleted Scenes, Explicit Sexual Content, Feel-good, Fluff and Smut, Gabriel Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Good Omens AU, Gratuitous Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Love Thy Neighbor, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rimming, Spanking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), What's Your Kink?, Wish Crowley was my yoga instructor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:07:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28857723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/snae_b/pseuds/snae_b</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ongoing series of deleted scenes from my AU <i>Love Thy Neighbor</i>. Lots of gratuitous smut and rot your teeth out fluff incoming.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love Thy Neighbor [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>494</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>217</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. That one especially memorable occasion they didn’t make it out of the dressing room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you are just looking for some out of context smut, then feel free to dive right in. Please note, though, that this series will contain spoilers for <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28131651"><strong>Love Thy Neighbor</strong></a> and will make much more sense in the context of that story, so I definitely suggest checking that out first if you haven't already!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale knocks gently on the door and then slips inside, pulling it shut behind him with a quiet click. Crowley is leaning against the vanity tugging a shoe off his foot. His chest glimmers with a thin sheen of sweat and his hair is sticking up in all directions. His cheeks are pink still from the heat of wearing his mask while he dances. Aziraphale can’t help but think that he looks very much like he does when they collapse together in post-orgasm bliss. There’s been a lot of that lately. A little thrill settles on his chest, makes his heart beat just a bit faster. Crowley looks up with a smile as Aziraphale walks in.</p><p>“Angel, there you are. Was beginning to get worried about you.” He sets his shoe down on the ground next to the first and rubs at the ball of his foot.</p><p>“So sorry, dear. Anathema snagged me to chat, and you know how that goes. It's like circling a black hole sometimes. No chance of escape.”</p><p>Crowley laughs and agrees as Aziraphale crosses the final few feet between them and leans in to give Crowley a kiss. He's been coming to <em>Eden</em> every Friday and Saturday for the past few weeks to watch Crowley. He sits quietly in a dark booth and admires Crowley's body. His strength and grace and above all else, his confidence. He knows that sometimes, in their relationship, that his confidence slips. That he needs reassurance and little reminders that he is worthy of Aziraphale’s affection. But on stage he needs no one to prop him up. He shines.  Aziraphale is blown away week after week. It stirs arousal in his belly every time (<em>the tiny shorts and fuck-me heels help too, of course</em>).</p><p>Crowley is always revved up and ready to go after a performance too. All that adrenaline and energy from the crowd. He used to go for a late night run after shows to work it off. Now he has Aziraphale. Crowley tilts up to deepen the kiss and brings a hand to Aziraphale’s jaw, cupping his face gently. It is all the permission Aziraphale needs to inch closer, sliding in between Crowley’s splayed knees and pushing until he can back Crowley up onto the lip of the vanity. His fingers slide under a thigh and hike Crowley’s leg up around his hip, angling to get even closer. He wants to press together completely. To touch every inch of Crowley’s body. Feel all those little telltale signs of his arousal: racing heart and rapid breath and trembling fingers and clumsy mouth. They usually wait until they get home to do this. Giggling and groping the whole way, but at least making it out the door first. Aziraphale isn’t sure why, but he is certain he can’t wait tonight.</p><p>Crowley squeezes the lifted leg against Aziraphale and tucks his heel behind his knee to bring him even closer. Aziraphale’s fingers tighten around his muscled thigh in response, pressing five white dimples into his skin. As they press closer Crowley can feel Aziraphale’s erection against his shirtless belly. Can feel him twitch and throb against him already. Aziraphale pushes and pushes until Crowley is leaning back onto the vanity, propped up on an elbow, a wave of petite makeup pots and bottles of cream falling to the floor in his wake.</p><p>Crowley pulls away, breathless. “Wait. Wait. The lock is broken. We can't. Not here at least.” He looks pained to say it. His leg is still wrapped tightly around Aziraphale’s hip.</p><p>Aziraphale frowns. Glances over his shoulder at the offending broken lock. Glances back at Crowley. Rakes his eyes down his sweaty torso. Bites his lip and smirks.</p><p>Crowley narrows his eyes and grins. “What?”</p><p>Aziraphale grabs Crowley around the waist and pulls him up off the vanity and drags him toward the door.</p><p>“Aziraphale, wait,” Crowley laughs, “at least let me put on my shoes!”</p><p>Aziraphale ignores him. Continues forward with a hand circled tightly around his wrist, Crowley still giggling and stumbling after him bare footed. When they get to the door Aziraphale swings Crowley around and presses him against it, one warm palm spread wide across his heaving stomach.</p><p>“There. It's locked now.” He can feel Crowley’s breath hitch under his palm.</p><p>He leans in and takes Crowley’s mouth with his own, gently but deeply. Slowly. Takes his time to enjoy his soft lips and savor his taste. Crowley is still smiling, although now a little lopsided, when Aziraphale pulls away.</p><p>“Aziraphale...”</p><p>Aziraphale’s lip quirks, he runs his tongue across his teeth. “Turn around.” Crowley hesitates, bites at his lower lip. Then turns around.</p><p>Aziraphale speaks softly behind him. “Hands on the door.”</p><p>Crowley lifts two shaking hands up and places his palms on the door in front of his shoulders. Aziraphale can see him swallow thickly. He steps close but doesn’t yet touch him. Crowley can feel the heat radiating off his body. He can feel his breath on the nape of his neck. It sends a wave of goosebumps down his arms. Aziraphale kisses the juncture of his neck and shoulder and Crowley leans his head to the side to give him space, hoping for more, suddenly completely unconcerned about the broken lock.</p><p>Aziraphale tilts his head and his words are soft next to Crowley’s earlobe. “<em>Good</em> <em>boy</em>.”</p><p>When Crowley speaks Aziraphale really only hears the consonants squeak out “fff..cck...” If he hadn’t been facing the door Aziraphale would have seen him go from half-mast to full salute in about half a second.</p><p>“Keep them there.”</p><p>Crowley nods. He feels fingers trace down the outside of his ribs then around and over his abs which twitch in anticipation. They move down, down, down slowly until Aziraphale can palm at him through his shorts. Tiny little dark spandex things that glitter. They are coarse under Aziraphale’s fingers as he grips Crowley through the fabric, drawing a groan from him. Aziraphale moves his mouth to the other side of Crowley’s head and kisses his shoulderblade.</p><p>“Shhh. Quiet now. There are people just on the other side. Wouldn't want to draw any attention, would we?” He squeezes him through the fabric again. Crowley's hips twitch and he curses quietly under his breath.</p><p>Aziraphale pulls away and Crowley sneaks a glance over his shoulder in time to see Aziraphale drop to his knees behind him. Aziraphale gets his fingertips under the waistband of his shorts and peels them slowly over his hips just an inch before leaning forward and biting the top of one cheek. Crowley yelps in surprise and Aziraphale gives him a sharp smack to his outer thigh.</p><p>“I said hush.”</p><p>Crowley whimpers quietly. He feels Aziraphale’s breath on his skin and then his tongue dip into the top of his crack, tickling that little v-shaped cleft. Crowley sucks in a breath and arches his back toward the heat of Aziraphale’s mouth, trying desperately to keep quiet. Although he can’t help but hope maybe Aziraphale will draw another groan out of him. Earn him another slap. Aziraphale tugs the shorts further down until they sit just at the crease between Crowley’s butt and thighs, his cock still trapped under the fabric on the other side. He nips at him again on one side then trails across cheeks, his nose tickling the sensitive skin along the way to nip at the other side. Crowley twitches with each teasing bite but manages to keep his lips shut. Aziraphale slides a hand between his thighs and strokes him through the shimmering spandex then drags his tongue all the way up his crack, dipping it slightly into where his cheeks are pressed together. Enough for the sensation, but not touching the place Crowley desperately wants him.</p><p>Crowley’s head falls forward and thunks gently against the door. “Oh <em>god</em>…” He arches his back deeper, spreading himself open slightly. Presenting himself to Aziraphale who just smiles behind him.</p><p>He reaches a hand up and strokes the curve of his lower back. “Gorgeous thing. Behaving so well. Keep being good for me, just like this.” Crowley has to bury his face against his own shoulder to stifle the sounds escaping through his lips. He is aching where he is still trapped under the spandex.</p><p>Aziraphale takes mercy and pulls the shorts over his hips and slowly slowly slowly down his legs, sure to let his knuckles tickle the backs of Crowley’s legs the whole way down. When they land on the tops of Crowley’s feet he waits for instruction instead of stepping out of them immediately, craving more of Aziraphale’s praise. “Oh, look at you. So obedient.” Aziraphale has been saving up little phrases and tucking them away. Thinking up the ways that he might be able to make Crowley’s legs shake. And shake they do as Aziraphale gently lifts each foot out of the shorts in turn then sets them back down several inches to the side of where they were originally planted so that his legs are spread wide in front of him.</p><p>He runs his hands back up the backs of his legs until he can grip Crowley’s cheeks and spread him open, thumbs dipping so low they nearly brush against his fluttering hole. He can see Crowley sink his teeth into his own bicep and Aziraphale wonders if he doesn’t have a bit of his own praise kink the way his cock twitches at the sight. He dives in with his tongue, forgoing his usual lingering teasing strokes. His laps and sucks at him then dips his tongue deep and revels in the muffled high pitched whimpers coming from above him. He licks into him until he is drooling down his own chin before he pulls back to breathe. Crowley’s body sags slightly but he keeps his hands and feet in place. Aziraphale kisses the space above the stretch of skin between his thumb and index finger as he catches his breath.</p><p>He murmurs against Crowley’s flushed skin. “I want to fuck you now. Would you like that?”</p><p>Crowley gazes over his shoulder with heavy lids. “Yes, <em>god yes</em>.” Aziraphale dips a hand into his pocket and pulls out a little packet of lube and Crowley giggles sleepily above him.</p><p>“What? I like to be prepared.” He rips open the lube with his teeth and coats his fingers then wastes no time plunging two into Crowley who barks out a yelp of pleasure. Aziraphale swats him again and Crowley groans against the door.</p><p>He whispers against the wood. “You know, ah… hah… that doesn’t make me want to be quiet…” He presses his hips back against Aziraphale as he pumps his fingers in and out of him.</p><p>“Mmm but good boys know how to be quiet, don’t they.”</p><p>“Fuck.” Crowley didn’t know someone could ruin him with words, but Aziraphale is doing a phenomenal job at it.</p><p>“<em>Don’t</em> they?”</p><p>“Y-yes.”</p><p>Aziraphale adds a third finger and Crowley bites the inside of his mouth. “And you want to be a good boy, yes?” Crowley nods. “I want to hear you say it.”</p><p>Aziraphale can’t see it but Crowley’s throat and chest flush. “I… I want to be a good boy. For you. M’ready, please...”</p><p>Aziraphale looks up at Crowley skeptically. “Are you sure? Don’t you want another?”</p><p>“I’m ready. Promise.” Aziraphale unbuckles his belt with one hand and pulls himself out of his trousers while continuing to stretch Crowley as well as he can. He reaches into his pocket and brings a condom to his mouth to rip the foil with his teeth. He has to pull his fingers out of Crowley to roll it on and squeeze the rest of the lube onto himself, shuddering at the squeeze of his own fingers. He stands and presses his cock against Crowley and just that initial contact has Crowley mewling against his own shoulder again. As he slides in he wraps a hand around Crowley’s mouth muffling his increasingly desperate moans. Crowley lifts a hand off the wall. He moves to hit the door, stops an inch short and curls his fingers into a fist and presses it against the wood instead.</p><p>Aziraphale stops his slow thrust into the tight heat of Crowley’s body. “You ok? Am I hurting you?” Crowley shakes his head vigorously from side to side and presses his hips back against Aziraphale, taking him the rest of the way in one quick motion.  The fingers of Aziraphale’s right hand dig into Crowley’s hip, his other is still clasped tightly around his mouth. “Oh <em>god</em>.” Crowley sets his hips in motion, pulling off of Aziraphale’s cock and rocking back down onto him. “Yeah, just like that. You’re so good. Incredible.” Crowley moves faster, his breath coming out in short hot bursts over Aziraphale’s knuckles.</p><p>Aziraphale meets Crowley the next time he rocks his hips back, thrusting up into him. The knuckles of Crowley’s fist turn white where it is still pressed against the door. He moves his hips faster. Aziraphale matches his pace, thrusting harder. He is having a hard time stifling his own moans and sinks his teeth into the top of Crowley’s shoulder as he fucks into him roughly. As his teeth sink deep, Crowley’s fisted hand flies to clamp on top of Aziraphale’s own hand where it still rests over his mouth. Even through both palms he can hear Crowley’s deep rumbling groan. Aziraphale feels him tremble and clench tightly around him and he realizes Crowley is coming untouched. Leaving thick hot streaks on the door in front of him.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, oh fuck…” Aziraphale fucks him through his orgasm until Crowley slumps beneath him, forehead resting against the door again. He slows his hips to a stop. Crowley’s knees are shaking as he pulls forward off of Aziraphale. He turns around and sinks down in front of Aziraphale then peels the condom off and slips his mouth around him. Aziraphale braces himself against the door, his own hands filling the warm patches where Crowley had laid his. It only takes a minute of Crowley working that sinful mouth around his prick before he is teetering on the edge. Crowley gazes up at him with pupils like two black quarters and it is all it takes to send him over. Aziraphale comes with a grunt and slips out of Crowley’s mouth as he sinks to his own knees in front of him. He leans in and kisses Crowley deeply, chasing the taste of himself on Crowley’s tongue.</p><p>When they pull apart again they are both flushed and disheveled and giggly and drowsy. After they catch their breath Crowley pushes himself up onto his feet and helps Aziraphale up before taking him gently in hand and tucking him back into his trousers. The attention to his oversensitive member makes Aziraphale flinch and giggle. Crowley crosses the room and steps into a pair of jeans as Aziraphale wobbles to the vanity to start picking up the items they had knocked to the ground earlier.</p><p>“Angel. That was… Jesus. That was really good.”</p><p>Aziraphale looks up with a grin. “<em>You’re</em> really good.”</p><p>Crowley’s chest flushes again at the praise. “Shut up.” He pauses for a minute, focuses on wiggling into the skin tight jeans. “That’s… That’s never happened before. I’ve never come just from…” He trails off.</p><p>Aziraphale grins. Takes it as a compliment.</p><p>Just then the door bursts open. “Crowley, darling, have you gotten a chance to look at that vendor info I emailed you this morning?” A brunette blur enters the room.</p><p>Aziraphale startles so badly he knocks even more items to the ground, sending them bouncing and skittering around Crowley’s dressing room. Crowley yanks his fly up, tries to suppress a full body shudder as his sensitive cock presses against the rough fabric. “Jesus Christ Anathema!  Knock next time!”</p><p>Anathema snorts and waves him off, “Please, nothing I haven’t seen before.” Aziraphale’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as the door swings shut behind her. They haven’t exactly had time to clean up yet and the evidence of their activities is on full display should Anathema turn around. Even the condom is still sitting on the ground where Crowley had dropped it. “Great set tonight, by the way. Very spooky. Sexy spooky. Very classic Ashtoreth.” Aziraphale catches Crowley’s eye and glances conspicuously at the door. Crowley scrunches his brow in question and Aziraphale nods subtly toward the door, jaw clenched.  Crowley finally trails his eyes over Anathema’s shoulder and nearly chokes. Coughs to cover it up. Anathema gives him a funny look but continues into the room.</p><p>Crowley tries to look composed. Like he hasn’t just had a cock in multiple orifices in the same place where she was just standing. He clears his throat. “Vendor info?”</p><p>“Yeah. Quote for the new linen service.” Aziraphale slips behind Anathema with the intention to snatch up the condom but just then Anathema glances over her shoulder. He resorts to just stepping on the condom to cover it up. He smiles at Anathema and thanks someone that he came down Crowley’s throat and not into the condom. Then he flushes at the thought. Then curses himself internally. Anathema smiles at him then turns back to Crowley.</p><p>“Ah, yeah. Yes. Looks good.” He grabs a silky soft white tee and pulls it over his head and even with everything going on Aziraphale is sad to see him covered up. “Anything else? I’m beat, we were just on our way out.”</p><p>Anathema gives him a once over. “Everything ok? You look awfully flushed.”</p><p>“I’m a redhead, Anathema. This is my natural state.”</p><p>She nods over her shoulder, “Yeah, but not his.” Crowley’s mouth drops and Anathema snorts out a laugh. She spins around to leave and Aziraphale snatches the doorknob quickly and yanks the door open.  As she floats toward the door Aziraphale breathes a sigh of relief. She pauses in the threshold and speaks over her shoulder. “I got the lock fixed last week, by the way.” She glances at Aziraphale’s foot and winks then she’s gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A quick little scene I whipped up to get back into this fic. I promise I'll get to requests next, and if anyone has any additional requests, lay them on me!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley runs his hands across the small of Aziraphale's back. Let's them drop down and around to either side of his hips, his fingers sinking into the softness there. His pulls his hips up and back, higher into the air so they tower high above his head and shoulders.</p><p>He hums quietly. “Gorgeous.”</p><p>Aziraphale's body is trembling. The muscles of his legs and arms quivering. “Crowley... I... I can't.” He sucks in a sharp breath.</p><p>“Shh. You can. Just a little longer.”</p><p>“Oh God, Crowley.”</p><p>“Just a little longer.”</p><p>Aziraphale whimpers. Presses his hips back against Crowley. “Fuck, Crowley. I'm gonna...”</p><p>“Aaand child's pose.”</p><p>Aziraphale's knees sink to ground and he lets his head thunk against the green mat beneath him while he pants. His voice comes out muffled under his arms. “Darling, I love you, but I'm not exactly cut out for yoga.”</p><p>Crowley runs his hands over Aziraphale’s back. Presses down on his hips and shoulders. “You are really very good at it. And the view is certainly nice. Come on up and lie on your back”.</p><p>Aziraphale reluctantly pushes himself up with his arms, that now feel more like noodles than appendages, and flops ungracefully into his back. Eyes on the ceiling. “Crowley, I'm no good at this. I can't even touch my toes.”</p><p>He laughs. “You don't have to touch your toes. You just have to reach for them.”</p><p>Aziraphale ignores him. Continues. “And I don't exactly have a yoga body.”</p><p>Crowley glares down at him. “And what exactly is a yoga body?”</p><p>Aziraphale flushes. Gestures vaguely at Crowley. “You know. Fit. Trim.” He glances away. “Thin.”</p><p>Crowley tuts at him and then sinks to his knees on the mat. He crawls forward so he is straddling one of Aziraphale's thighs. Leans down and kisses it through the sweats he is wearing. “You know. That first night. When you knocked on my door? Do you remember what you were wearing?”</p><p>Aziraphale snorts. “Of course I do. It was mortifying.”</p><p>Crowley scrunches his brow. “Mortifying?”</p><p>“I was hardly even dressed.”</p><p>Crowley runs his hand up the outside of Aziraphale's thighs. Licks his lips. “I didn't even know you, but it was all I could do not to drop to my knees right there and kiss every inch of your thighs.”</p><p>Aziraphale flushes. “Crowley...”</p><p>He flicks his eyes up to meet Aziraphale's. “I'm serious. Those thin little boxers you were wearing. Didn't leave much to the imagination.” He reaches both hands up and gets his fingers under the hem of his sweats, careful not to snag his boxers too. He pulls them gently. “Lift your hips for me.” Aziraphale complies. Bends his knees, presses down with his heels and lifts his hips up off the ground. Crowley peels the soft grey sweats down his thighs slowly, stopping at his knees.</p><p>Aziraphale swallows as Crowley's hands skirt back to the outside of his thighs and press them together. “All I could think about was what they tasted like. How it would feel to be pressed between them.” He squeezes his thumbs between them with a quiet groan then traces them upward, raking the boxers up between his legs. “So plush. Warm.” He leans down and brings his mouth to the place they touch. Kisses that seam then dips his tongue in between and runs it up until his nose and the boxers press up against his scrotum.</p><p>“So sweet. Salty. I wanted to bite them. Thought about it all night.” He chuckles. “And the next morning.”</p><p>He peeks up to find Aziraphale gazing down at him smiling. He grins back and nips at his thigh, then slides up his body until his breath is ghosting over his belly.</p><p>“The way your shirt was clinging to you. Mmm. So soft.” He pushes the hem of his t-shirt up an inch and kisses him there. He folds the hem of his boxers down and kisses an inch lower in that deep crease. “Fuck you're gorgeous...”</p><p>He slides up further to where his shirt hugs his chest. Tweaks his nipple through the fabric until it stands up. Aziraphale gasps. “I wondered how sensitive you were. If you'd like me to be gentle.” He kisses the other nipple. “Or if you wanted it rough.” He bites down and Aziraphale's spine arches up off the floor.</p><p>Crowley presses himself against Aziraphale's thighs, which are still pressed tightly together. He rubs himself against him until Aziraphale let's his them fall open just an inch. Just enough that Crowley's cock fits snug against him. He thrusts his hips slowly, heat and friction building.</p><p>“I dreamt about all the positions I could put you in.“ He bites his lip and raises a brow. “All the positions you could put <em>me</em> in.”</p><p>He scoots up and his mouth hovers over Aziraphale's. He smirks. “I wanted to know how you tasted.” He lets the tip of his tongue touch Aziraphale's bottom lip and pulls away just as he strains upward. He slips all the way down to Aziraphale's feet, bringing his sweats down with him. He lifts a foot. Kisses his instep.</p><p>“You weren't even wearing shoes.”</p><p>He sticks both ankles up on his shoulders and leans forward until Aziraphale's thighs are snug against his own chest. Soles of his feet reaching for the ceiling. He runs his hands down his shins and thighs.</p><p>“I imagined you folding me up like this and having me how you wanted me.” He leans forward further until Aziraphale's hips lift off the floor, curl up over his shoulders. Crowley's face is hovering over him. His groin pressed up against his ass. “Or like this.” Aziraphale groans, tries to close the distance between their lips. Crowley pulls away. Lets his hips roll back down onto the ground.</p><p>“You know, when I opened the door I thought you were a lamb to the slaughter. By the time you turned around I realized I had that backward.” He chuckles. “Speaking of turning around. Mmm. What's the saying? Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go?” He nudges Aziraphale until he flips onto his belly. “Mmm fuck yes. Watching this jiggle up the stairs.” He grabs two handfuls and shakes. Gives one side a slap. “Ruined me. I was done.”</p><p>He finally takes the hem of Aziraphale's boxers and yanks them down his legs. Returns his hands to the soft pale expanse in front of him and squeezes. “Fuck <em>me</em> I can't get enough of you. I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of you.” He leans forward and kisses across his back side. Let's his mouth fall low enough to lay a kiss on his sac where it peeks out between his thighs. Aziraphale whimpers and presses his hips up and back toward Crowley. He chuckles softly and eases his body forward so his chest is just grazing Aziraphale's back, one hand braced on either side of his face. His hips pressing down against him. He leans down and sucks on his neck right where it meets his shoulder and Aziraphale pushes up onto his elbows, leans his head back into the touch of Crowley's lips. He sucks harder and Aziraphale's shoulders drop to expose more of his neck.</p><p>Crowley ruts against him from behind. Slides backward and pulls Aziraphale's hips with him so his chest is on the floor and his ass is high and spread. Crowley dips his face and licks a long stripe up his crack. Skirts around that tight rim. Teases until Aziraphale finally speaks, voice desperate.</p><p>“Please Crowley. Please.”</p><p>He grins. Just barely touches his tongue to him. Drags it in slow circles that only whisper against that sensitive place.</p><p>Aziraphale whines. “Crowley...” He reaches his hand between his own legs only for Crowley to take his wrist and stop him before he can get his fingers wrapped around himself.</p><p>“Not allowed. Hands on the ground. Out in front of you.” Aziraphale groans and places them under his shoulders. “Further. All the way out in front of you.” Aziraphale reaches his fingertips as far in front of him as he can. Forehead and chest on the ground.</p><p>“That's better.” Crowley returns his mouth to Aziraphale. Finally does more than just brush against him lightly. He presses the flat of his tongue against him and drags it upward. Then again. And again. Until Aziraphale is whimpering and whining and his thighs quiver. Then Crowley makes his tongue rigid. Dips it slowly inside of him over and over until Aziraphale is panting and his fingertips dig into the yoga mat beneath him. Until he is fluttering around Crowley’s tongue and pressing his hips back for more.</p><p>Crowley pulls away and drags Aziraphale up with him. Sits back on his heels while Aziraphale kneels in front of him and works a finger up into him. Then a second. Aziraphale's thighs tremble. Crowley wraps an arm around his chest. Sneaks a hand up to his jaw and bends him backward until the back of his head is resting on his shoulder, heart and throat open to the sky. As Aziraphale relaxes into him he drops the hand down and at last<em>, at last</em>, takes his aching prick in hand and begins to stroke him.</p><p>Aziraphale's hands find Crowley's knees behind him and he grips tightly as his body begins to tremble. He whispers Crowley's name over and over until words transform into a low gravelly moan and he spurts across the yoga mat beneath him.</p><p>Crowley keeps pumping him. His fingers in his ass and his fist around his cock until Aziraphale finds his voice again.</p><p>“Oh God, ok... Oh...” His body twitches with overstimulation and Crowley withdraws both hands and draws Aziraphale down into his lap. Holds him until his breathing returns to normal and he tilts his head to the side to kiss him.</p><p>“Crowley...”</p><p>Crowley kisses his ear and whispers to him “Corpse, bridge, fish, happy baby, plow, sphinx, puppy dog, camel.” He counts them off on his fingers as he lists them. Aziraphale can only stare wide eyed. “There's no such thing as a yoga body.”</p><p>Aziraphale laughs. “I guess I enjoy yoga after all…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had a request for spanking and a request for christening the leather armchair. I thought those two ideas went together almost as well as Crowley and Aziraphale. </p><p>For divinehedonism and clear_night_sky 🖤 Thanks for loving this series and for all of your lovely comments!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale plunks down into the leather armchair. He's had it for years. Spent many nights in its warm embrace writing or reading or binging reality tv. It had molded to his body. A soft leather glove that cupped every curve and held him close. A constant companion when the days were long and the nights were lonely.</p><p>He runs his fingers over the arms. They are worn and soft. The one on the right has the ghost of a red wine spill. He takes in the rest of the room. It doesn't match Crowley's modern decor. But then again, neither do most of his belongings. He himself doesn't match that aesthetic. Where Crowley is all hard lines and sleek and sexy, Aziraphale is soft and comfortable and cozy. But it is their differences that let them fit so well. Identical puzzle pieces don't latch together. Magnets with matching poles repel.</p><p>He takes his time to imagine this space filled with both of their possessions and suddenly the armchair fits. He smiles.</p><p>“Whatcha thinkin' bout?” Crowley is leaning against the kitchen island.</p><p>“You. Us. This.”</p><p>“No regrets, I hope.” He phrases it like a joke, but Aziraphale knows there is a hint of truth there. A knife’s edge of worry.</p><p>“Not at all.” His brows creep up in the area above his nose. “I thought I'd made that quite clear this morning.”</p><p>Crowley blushes and Aziraphale marvels at the thought he can still elicit such a reaction. It tickles him. He has a sudden desire to do it again. “Crowley, darling. Would you come here please?”</p><p>Crowley smirks. Crosses the room slowly. Hips swinging wildly from side to side like he's held together with loose rubber bands. When he gets to the chair Aziraphale crooks his finger and Crowley puts one palm wide on the arm. Leans down. Gets close.</p><p>Aziraphale licks his lips. Crowley is nearly close enough to taste. He is pretty sure if he kisses him now he'll only taste himself on his tongue. The thought sends a tingle to his groin. “I was thinking maybe you'd like to join me.” Crowley grins. Moves to straddle his lap. Aziraphale catches his hip. “I'd like you to undress for me first.”</p><p>Crowley chews at his lip. Backs off a few inches. Lets Aziraphale's hand fall away. He grabs his tee at the nape of his neck and pulls it over his head.</p><p>“Mmm.” Aziraphale leans back in his chair. Spreads his thighs. Rests his hand on his crotch.</p><p>Crowley's chest blotches in little pink patches. His nipples stand up in the chill of the room. He slips his fingers under the waistband of his joggers and slides them and his briefs down his hips slowly. Lifts one leg at a time to pull them over his ankles and leaves them in a pile at his feet. He takes a step forward and Aziraphale puts out a hand. Stops him again.</p><p>“Not yet. I want to look at you.” Crowley stands in front of him. Awkward. Aziraphale lets his eyes wander. They linger on that nest of messy red hair between his legs. On the evidence nestled there that Crowley is interested in where things are going. That it's been long enough since they last brought each other to climax. “Would you touch yourself? For me?”</p><p>Crowley smirks, but blushes at the same time. His cockiness unable to outshine the exposure. His fingers tremble just slightly as he wraps them around himself. Squeezes. Strokes himself slowly from root to tip.</p><p>“Mmm that's good.” Aziraphale rubs himself through his trousers</p><p>Crowley blushes further down his chest but his hand moves faster. He steps forward until Aziraphale's knee brushes against his own.</p><p>“Can I join you yet?”</p><p>Aziraphale grins. “I was thinking... I'd like to try that thing you mentioned. If you're amenable.”</p><p>Crowley's hand stops. His belly jumps. “The... uh..” He swallows. His mouth is suddenly very dry. “The spanking ... thing?”</p><p>Aziraphale nods. “Only if you'd like, darling.”</p><p>Crowley's eyes are wide. “Oh I'd like. I'd like, very much.” Aziraphale pats his lap and Crowley shifts then pauses. Laughs nervously. “Should I just...”</p><p>Aziraphale shrugs. “You're going to have to tell me. I've never done this before.”</p><p>Crowley shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I mean... I haven't really. Either.”</p><p>“Well... Why don't you come lie down and we'll figure it out.”</p><p>Crowley gives himself one last tug and moves to the side of the armchair. Leans forward.</p><p>“Oh... wait, actually...” Aziraphale holds up his hand. “Better from the other side. Righty.”</p><p>Crowley nods. Moves to the other side of the chair and drapes himself over Aziraphale's lap. His chest and thighs are on the age softened leather arms. He sinks into them. Is cradled by them. His bare belly and cock rest against the softness of Aziraphale's lap.</p><p>Aziraphale runs his palm over Crowley's bum and thighs. “Comfortable dear?” Crowley nods. Aziraphale continues to rub soft lines and circles into his skin. “Do we need... um. A safe word or something? I must admit I'm a bit out of my league here.”</p><p>Crowley pushes himself up to his elbows. “I've read about this, ah, traffic light system of sorts. Green for go. Yellow for wait. Red for stop. We could... Would that work?”</p><p>“Green, yellow, red. Simple. Got it.”</p><p>Crowley smiles, crosses his wrists and sets his chin on them.</p><p>Aziraphale goes back to stroking Crowley gently. His hand stills. “Wait... So I wait for you to say green before I do anything? Like.. in between each one?”</p><p>Crowley lifts back up. “Oh. Um. No I think. I think it is more like a check in? Like if you're worried you can ask where I'm at?”</p><p>Aziraphale scrunches his brow. “Should I be worried?”</p><p>“No, no. I just mean... You know. It is just a way to communicate in the heat of the moment.”</p><p>“Maybe we should do a little more, um, research into this?”</p><p>“Angel, you aren't whipping me or something. It's just spanking. If I don't like it or it is too much I'll tell you. And same goes for you.”</p><p>“Ok, ok. You're right.” His fingertips make swirls and circles over Crowley's right cheek.</p><p>“I mean, if you aren't comfortable with this, we don't have to.” </p><p>“No, no. I'm... I'd like to. I've been thinking about it lately. It's, it's actually very exciting. For me.”</p><p>Crowley grins. Wiggles his hips a little. “Shall we, then?”</p><p>Aziraphale licks his lips. “Let's”.</p><p>Crowley lays his face back onto his wrists. Tries to relax. Aziraphale continues to trace shapes on his skin. Lays the flat of his palm on him. Takes a long breath. He feels oddly nervous. Self-conscious. Even though Crowley is the one laid naked across his lap. Vulnerable. Aziraphale hasn't even shed a stitch. He literally has the upper hand. He has no problem doing this in the heat of the moment. Never hesitates when he is deep inside of Crowley. When there is pleasure all wrapped up in the pain. As he considers all of this, he doesn't even realize that he is teasing Crowley. That the anticipation is making him throb. That he is awash with pleasure even if Aziraphale can't see it. Can't feel it or hear it. Crowley takes a stuttering breath just as Aziraphale finally lifts his hand.</p><p>He brings it down quickly, but at the last second hesitates. It is lackluster to say the least.</p><p>Crowley jumps a little. “Oh!” Then chuckles</p><p>Aziraphale cringes. “Sorry, that was, ah. I'll get better. I promise.”</p><p>“No, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. That was good. You can, ah, you can do it harder though. Much harder. You aren't going to hurt me.”</p><p>“But... Isn't that kind of the point?”</p><p>Crowley laughs. “You know what I mean!”</p><p>“Ok. Ok. Just. Let me...” He moves before he can chicken out again. Raises his hand quickly and brings it down hard on one cheek. It cracks loudly against his skin. Crowley's body bucks up and he yelps.</p><p>Aziraphale stares wide eyed at the perfect pink handprint forming there. Gazes back at his own pink palm. Focuses on the sting on his own skin. He snaps back to attention. “Oh! Oh, darling, color?”</p><p>Crowley laughs. “Green. Definitely green.”</p><p>“Oh, lovely! Again then?”</p><p>“Oh God yes.”</p><p>Aziraphale traces his fingertip over that pink spot then raises his hand again. Brings it down on the other cheek. Crowley yelps and groans in rapid succession. “Harder. You... You can do it harder. <em>Please</em> do it harder.”</p><p>Aziraphale can feel Crowley’s erection poking him in the lap. His own cock perks up again. He runs the fingers of his left hand through Crowley's hair then grips it until he whimpers softly. He spanks him again, right in the center. Harder this time. Crowley moans lewdly under him. Presses his hips down. Aziraphale's palm burns then tingles.</p><p>“Oh my, your bottom is a lovely shade.” He runs his nails lightly over the tender reddened flesh</p><p>Crowley groans. His voice is quiet. “Oh fuck Aziraphale...”</p><p>“Would you like me to continue?”</p><p>Crowley tries to nod but doesn't get far with his hair tangled around Aziraphale's fingers. Tries for his voice instead. He sounds breathless. “Yes.”</p><p>Aziraphale spanks him twice more, lower this time, and Crowley writhes on his lap. Ruts against him.</p><p>Aziraphale smiles. “Oh maybe a couple more? Since you're doing so well. What do you think? Would you like that?”</p><p>“Again, yes. Please.”</p><p>Aziraphale runs his fingers down the length of his crack. He lets them linger in that little crook between his thighs and sac and ass then runs it back up before raising his hand quickly and bringing it back down. He admires the little ripples that spread out from the place of impact. The faint jiggle of that small soft place. One of few on Crowley's body. “Mmm I could look at you all day.” He runs his palm down his ass and between his thighs until Crowley spreads them open. He rolls his balls gently in his hand. “I've read that some people like to use a toy while they do this.” He lets his finger circle close to that tight pucker. “Maybe we could try that next time.”</p><p>Crowley is panting in his lap. At the sensation of Aziraphale's fingers. At the sting on his skin. At the praise. At the thought of a next time. At the erection beginning to poke him from below. He's so distracted he doesn't notice Aziraphale lift his hand again. His entire body jumps at the impact.</p><p>“Fuck! Oh fuck. Angel...”</p><p>Aziraphale teases his sensitive abused skin again with his nails. “I'd like to fuck you now.”</p><p>Crowley is already pushing himself up. “Green. Fucking green. Absolutely.”</p><p>Aziraphale laughs then stands as Crowley slips off his lap onto his knees next to the chair. He leans over and kisses Crowley softly. “Back in two shakes.”</p><p>Crowley looks after him with his brows drawn together. “Two shakes?”</p><p>Some minutes later Aziraphale returns, Crowley's black silk robe tied loosely around his waist. Chest exposed down to his belly button.</p><p>“Oh... You look... Wow...”</p><p>He lubes his fingers as he crosses the room. Crowley stares after him as he takes his seat again. He pats his knee. “Back up you go then.”</p><p>Crowley splays himself over his lap eagerly. Lets his legs fall open, one draping around the front of the armchair and dangling beside Aziraphale's own.</p><p>Aziraphale squeezes his still red cheek in one hand and doesn't hesitate to penetrate Crowley with the other, two fingers sliding in easily. It hasn't been long since they last fucked today. Crowley sucks in a breath and groans Aziraphale's name as he stretches him. Arches his back and presses against his fingers as he moves his hand slowly. He spends more time than necessary opening him up. Indulging in watching Crowley's warmed and pinked behind move on and off of his fingers. In those little ripples that radiate outward as he fucks himself harder.</p><p>Without a word Crowley pulls himself forward and off of Aziraphale's lap then pulls the silk tie from his waist so the robe falls the rest of the way open. He slicks Aziraphale's prick. Circles his wrist around the swollen head until Aziraphale's thighs clench and he smiles around a bitten lip. Crowley turns around, faces away, and Aziraphale takes his hips to help guide him down onto his length. Groans as he watches himself disappear into Crowley’s body.</p><p>Crowley braces his hands on those broad, supportive arms of the chair. His thighs straddle Aziraphale. He descends slowly until he is sitting flush against Aziraphale's lap.</p><p>Aziraphale grips him gently by the crests of his hips and holds him as he starts to rock in his lap. Crowley circles his hips slowly. Mouth open. Eyes closed.</p><p>Aziraphale leans back in the chair. “Oh Crowley...”</p><p>As he moves, the friction between them lights up that skin that has been thoroughly spanked. It tingles and stings and sends a spark through him. “Crowley... You... You were so good for your spanking.” Crowley whimpers. “So good.”</p><p>“Angel...”</p><p>“You looked so beautiful. I can...” Aziraphale groans. Lets his hands slip back and down to grip the top of Crowleys ass. Really digs his fingers in. “I can still see it. That, oh.. fuck... That pink outline of my fingers.”</p><p>Crowley's legs and arms are shaking. Sweat drips down his chest. He's making little mewling noises that threaten to undo Aziraphale.</p><p>“I want to bend you over and take a picture.”</p><p>Crowley falters. “Oh <em>fuck</em> angel...”</p><p>Aziraphale moves quickly. Wraps an arm around Crowley's waist and stands. Spins them around so that Crowley's knees are on the seat and he is leaning forward, bracing his hands on the back of the chair. The black robe slips off his shoulders and onto the floor as he thrusts into him from behind. Crowley takes himself with one trembling hand and pumps roughly. It only takes one impact of Aziraphale's hand to the outside of Crowley's ass before he is cupping his other hand over his cock to keep from coming all over Aziraphale's beloved chair. His chest resting on the back. Mouth wide in a silent moan as Aziraphale continues to pound into him, their thighs slapping loudly.</p><p>A moment later Aziraphale tumbles after him, filling him up with hot pulses as he holds his hips flush against those pink handprints.</p><p>Aziraphale pulls away, leaving Crowley heaving on the chair in front of him, palm full of his own spend. He blinks his eyes open. Groans quietly. Smiles. “Aziraphale... That was...” The sound of a shutter interrupts him. He whips around to find Aziraphale holding up his phone and biting his lip.</p><p>“Aziraphale!”</p><p>He jumps. “Oh! What?”</p><p>“Did you just...? You can't just...” Aziraphale turns the phone around to show Crowley the screen. “Oh... Oh that's...” His cock twitches despite everything. “Ok, fine, send that to me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another request by clear_night_sky for "something around the kitchen and the use of... free flowing chocolate." I hope that this is messy enough! This was written very quickly, so apologies if it comes out a little clunky in places. </p>
<p>I wanted to play around with less dialogue during the actual sex for this one. I know a lot of people aren't so vocal in intimate situations and wanted to explore desperation and desire without all the dirty talk. </p>
<p>Please hit me with your requests! I have a lot of fun with the prompts (and they are a great distraction from real work)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Whatcha got there, Angel?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale is ripping open the cardboard box before he even gets all the way in the door. He kicks his wellies off as he struggles with the way-more-than-absolutely-necessary packing tape wrapped around each seam. He lets his umbrella fall off his arm and onto the floor next to the door. Crowley frowns and crosses the room to put it in the stand.</p>
<p>“Seriously, what's got you so excited?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale grins as he hurries toward the kitchen island. It is grey outside. Rain falling steadily against the floor to ceilings windows and running down their surface in rivulets. He sets the box down and digs out the fluffy paper packing and draws out a little orange lid with a walnut handle. He spins it in his fingers before setting it down gently on the counter and digging back into the box. Next comes a stubby little pot with a matching handle, smooth and tapered nearly to a point at the end. Aziraphale inspects it closely. Runs his fingers over the smooth surface. Touches the rivets that connect the handle to the body. He sets it down next to the lid and keeps digging. Crowley picks up the little orange lid as Aziraphale pulls a black metal stand with walnut legs out of the box.</p>
<p>“Didn't you already do fondue?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale turns the stand over in his hand. “I did the <em>recipe</em> for the fondue. This is for the photo shoot.” He grins. “Isn't it perfect? 1963. Made in Denmark. Sunset orange enamel with walnut finishes. This was all the rage in America in the sixties. All that communal love and communal food. Turning that Swiss tradition on its head and going for decadent chocolate instead of cheese.” He looks up at Crowley. “Very groovy.”</p>
<p>Crowley carefully sets the lid on the pot. “Makes me want to bust out some bell bottoms.” Aziraphale imagines it. Gets a funny little flutter under his ribs as he pulls the dipping forks out of the box.</p>
<p>“Do you have any?”</p>
<p>Crowley laughs. “Not exactly.”</p>
<p>“Shame, that.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Crowley saunters back into the kitchen, skin still steaming from a post-pole shower. He pushes his damp hair off of his forehead and leans against the soft grey countertop. Stares at the ample backside that jiggles back and forth slightly as Aziraphale whisks something on the stovetop. There is a cozy little tableau set out in front of him. That little orange fondue pot surrounded by candied orange peels and plump raspberries. Sliced pineapple chunks and ruby red strawberries and pillowy soft homemade marshmallows. Aziraphale turns around just as Crowley reaches for an orange peel.</p>
<p>“Ah ah! Don't you dare!”</p>
<p>Crowley freezes, hand midway to the platter. “Oh come on, just one.”</p>
<p>“No way. You'll wait.”</p>
<p>Crowley huffs as Aziraphale pours the creamy melted chocolate into the pot and lights the burner underneath. He adjusts the lighting and begins snapping photos. Checks the screen.</p>
<p>"Will you point that light just a smidge to the left?"</p>
<p>Crowley adjusts the light and Aziraphale goes back to snapping photos. Checks the screen again and frowns.</p>
<p>"Something is off. It doesn't say communal, you know? I don't see love. Just chocolate and tropical fruit."</p>
<p>"Well how is it supposed to feel communal? There aren't any people."</p>
<p>Aziraphale chews at his lip. "Yeah. Yeah you're right." He glances up. "Why don't you grab a fork. I can get some action shots that way. I'll just get your hands. They’re very lovely after all. Definitely scream ‘love’ to me."</p>
<p>Crowley grins and leans forward. "I thought you'd never ask." He grabs one of the sleek walnut handled dipping forks and jabs a chunk of pineapple as Aziraphale snaps photos. Takes his time to turn it over in the chocolate slowly. Lets the chocolate flow off and back into the pot.  When it stops dripping he pops the pineapple into his mouth and groans. "So good."</p>
<p>Aziraphale glances at the screen. "Ok... looking better. Why don't you get in there with your fingers this time? Dip a strawberry."</p>
<p>Crowley picks up a strawberry obediently. He's spent enough time in front of a camera and an audience to know how to pose. Even with his hands. Somehow his grip on the berry is seductive. Suggestive. Aziraphale swallows. Snaps another photo. He catches a shot with the chocolate collecting on the tip of the strawberry just before it drips back into the pot. "Got it. Perfect." Crowley brings the strawberry to his lips and closes his eyes as his teeth sink into it. Aziraphale can't help but bring the lens up and snap a photo of his face. At that smear of chocolate on his lips.</p>
<p>He reaches across the counter. "You've got a little...." He uses his thumb to brush a drip of chocolate from Crowley's lip. As he does Crowley looks up mischievously. Turns his mouth to catch Aziraphale's thumb and suck it into his mouth. Swirls his tongue around it before he pops his mouth off of him with a smirk.</p>
<p>Aziraphale bites at his lip. Looks Crowley up and down. Crowley licks his lips. "It really is delicious. You should try some." He leans forward and dips his finger into the hot melted chocolate. Lets it run down onto that cushiony pad at the base of his index finger then holds it out toward Aziraphale's face. Aziraphale chuckles. Leans forward and takes Crowley's finger in between his lips. Sucks gently until it is clean then pulls away and takes his wrist in his fingers. Brings the hand back to his mouth and licks where it has run onto his palm.</p>
<p>When he pulls away Crowley is still grinning at him. Aziraphale grins back. "It's good. But I think it could be better." Crowley tilts a brow as Aziraphale circles around to the other side of the island. He takes Crowley by the waist and pushes him up onto the counter then pushes him backward until he is laughing and laying back onto the stone surface, legs dangling over the edge. He pushes Crowley's shirt up to his ribcage then picks up the little orange pot and smiles as he tilts it slowly until it drizzles over Crowley's stomach. He gasps and arches up off the counter at the sensation. It is just on the other side of too hot. Leaves the skin red and sensitive underneath but cools quickly as it runs over his body.</p>
<p>Aziraphale sets the little pot onto the counter and puts his hands on either side of Crowley's hips. Leans over and brings his lips to Crowley's stomach. Chases that melted chocolate as it runs into the faint creases of his abs. Laps at it as it drips slowly down that subtle V toward his groin. Crowley giggles and gasps underneath him. Aziraphale stands back up to admire the traces of chocolate still smeared across Crowley’s skin. The red lines left in its wake. He grins down at Crowley, who stares up at him panting slightly, then gets to work on his fly. Crowley lifts his hips up off of the counter as Aziraphale struggles to pull the skintight jeans over his bum and down around his ankles. He picks up the fondue pot again and drizzles the chocolate across his thighs and hips until it runs down around the curve of his body. He runs his fingers through it. Smears it across the jut of his hip then lifts his fingers to Crowley’s mouth. Crowley takes them eagerly into his mouth. Wraps his lips wide around four fingers and shows off. Works those fingers like a cock. Bobbing his head and taking them deep and pressing with his tongue. Hollowing his cheeks and groaning like he is the one on the receiving end.</p>
<p>When Crowley finally releases Aziraphale’s fingers they are both breathing heavily. Aziraphale dives his face back down and laps at the drizzles that crisscross Crowley’s skin. Sucks at him until he brings little purple bruises to the surface. His hands and face are a sticky mess as Crowley drags him back up his body by the hair and crashes their mouths together. Crowley pushes himself and Aziraphale back up, kicks at the jeans that are still binding his ankles together as he reaches for Aziraphale’s belt. Aziraphale laughs at his frantic trembling fingers. Takes over the belt while Crowley fights with his too tight jeans. Curses as he manages to turn one leg entirely inside out while it still clings to his foot. Aziraphale leans down and yanks it off of him and Crowley wastes no time spinning around where he is sitting and laying backward on the counter, head hanging over the edge, feet knocking soft little marshmallows to the ground on the other side.</p>
<p>He takes Aziraphale’s hips in his fingers and pulls him forward as Aziraphale wiggles his own trousers down over his thighs and takes himself in hand. Crowley lets his mouth fall open, throat exposed to the ceiling and Aziraphale guides himself slowly into that waiting heat. He braces his hands on the lip of the counter, one palm on either side of Crowley’s shoulders, and swears as Crowley begins to work his tongue around him and suck gently. Teasingly. He keeps his hips still until Crowley tugs him forward with his hands, fingers still wrapped around his hips. With the encouragement he begins to rock slowly in and out of Crowley’s mouth. He runs his fingers over Crowley’s throat and down his chest to roll a nipple between his fingers. Lets his other hand slide way down and tangle up in Crowley’s hair as he slides in and out of his mouth.</p>
<p>Aziraphale pinches the nipple until Crowley is groaning around him and urging him to take his mouth faster and deeper. He lets go of Aziraphale’s hip with one hand and reaches for himself only to find his hand slapped away. His hips twitch up as Aziraphale takes his cock in hand and begins to pump him. Long slow strokes that Aziraphale matches with the thrusting of his own hips. Those fingers tangled up in Crowley’s hair slowly release and drag up under his jaw and skirt under his ear. Trail over his cheek and brush across his lips where they stretch wide around Aziraphale’s girth. Crowley runs his own hand up his body past the hand on his face and reaches down under Aziraphale to grope gently at Aziraphale’s balls where they hang heavy between his legs. Moves it back up to stroke the length of cock that won’t fit into his mouth no matter how badly he wants it to. He smiles around Aziraphale’s cock as his legs begin to tremble and his rhythm begins to falter.</p>
<p>Feeling Aziraphale begin to fall apart throws Crowley’s own pleasure into overdrive. The muscles of his belly twitch and clench. He focuses on the feeling of the cock filling his mouth. Of Aziraphale’s soft hand wrapped firmly around him. The sensation pooling deep inside of his core. His breathing amps up. His heart thumps heavily in his chest. He can tell that Aziraphale feels the same. Can feel his pulse race against his palm at the juncture of his groin and thigh. Can hear his moans pitch upward and become more desperate. Aziraphale thrusts into his mouth faster but is careful not to push too deep. His hips shake and his breath comes out in hot bursts and his fist tightens around Crowley’s cock and Crowley can feel all of it. All of the sensations build up on top of one another. He feels it all coil up tight in his belly and his back arches deeply off the countertop as he comes. His moans sound like sobs around Aziraphale’s cock. His fingers clasp tightly where the connect to Aziraphale’s body. His legs flex and his hips, still sticky with chocolate, float up off of the countertop. In the midst of it all he feels a heat pulsing across his tongue and he swallows greedily around Aziraphale. Does his best to work his tongue and bob his head through the sensations racing through his own body. Keeps working Aziraphale’s prick until he pulls back and lets himself slip out of Crowley’s mouth.</p>
<p>Crowley pants, eyes closed, arms hanging over his head toward the floor. His belly a mess of chocolate and his own cum. He feels two warm hands on his cheeks and then a soft set of lips press against his own. Two wet, loose mouths inverted against one another. A novel meeting of tongues. Crowley groans into the kiss. Finds those soft blond waves and holds his head in place and plunges his tongue deeper. Sucks Aziraphale’s lower lip into his mouth and teases him with his teeth. Aziraphale finally sits back on his heels and Crowley whimpers. Reaches for him again. Opens his eyes to find Aziraphale pink cheeked and sweaty. Chocolate still smeared messily across his chin. Pupils wide and dark. Crowley grasps his hair roughly and forces their mouths back together. Kisses him deeply one last time before he releases his grip. Aziraphale smiles as he sits back. Drags himself to his feet and gently guides Crowley up with him. Spins him around and wraps his arms his waist.</p>
<p>Crowley looks around at the mess they’ve made. Of the kitchen. Of each other. He’s going to need another post-pole shower.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A fun little shorty for divinehedonism who requested a little prostate fun. I couldn't stop thinking about your mini description and wrote this in my head while out for a run (really makes the miles go by! 😊). </p>
<p>I also had a request from ineffablecolors for more of Aziraphale battling Crowley's insecurities, so I wanted to sprinkle some of that in here too. </p>
<p>Thank you both for your requests! I hope you enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale is brushing his teeth when he hears the door slam and Crowley stomp across the flat toward their bedroom. He peeks out the door in time to see Crowley sit heavily on the edge of the bed and reach down to yank his shoelaces loose aggressively. Aziraphale frowns around a mouth full of toothpaste. Crowley can get into moods sometimes. Usually for reasons completely unwarranted. He spits and rinses his mouth and treads lightly into the bedroom on bare feet.</p>
<p>"Dear, you're home late. Everything ok?"</p>
<p>Crowley grumbles in response. Kicks his boots off and leans on his elbows. Aziraphale rounds the bed and sits next to him. Leaves some space.</p>
<p>"Did you want to talk about it?"</p>
<p>Crowley rubs at his forehead. "I just feel so... so out of my element sometimes. Like I have no idea what I'm doing running a club. I didn't go to business school. I don't have a degree. I just feel so... so stupid. Like I'm just pretending."</p>
<p>"Darling, no one knows what they're doing. We're all just pretending."</p>
<p>"I just..." he sighs heavily. "I feel like it was all just handed to me."</p>
<p>Aziraphale furrows his brow. "Well I don't think that is accurate at all."</p>
<p>"I only got that job because I knew someone. Anathema did Tracy a favor. Because they felt sorry for me."</p>
<p>"As a bar back, Crowley. It isn't like they handed you the keys to <em>Eden</em>. And what is this nonsense? The people you're helping now. Are you helping them because you feel sorry for them?"</p>
<p>"No..  but. That dancing gig. She didn't have to do that."</p>
<p>"<em>Crowley</em>." Aziraphale sets his hand on top of Crowley's. "Anathema may have unlocked the door, but you came in and kicked it off the hinges. You wouldn't be where you are today without <em>years</em> of hard work. Literal sweat and tears and bruises. And she didn't encourage you to buy in because she felt sorry for you. You showed her that you could run that place. You <em>do</em> know what you're doing. Stop doubting yourself. Don't let those old fears creep in." Crowley finally lifts his head to look at Aziraphale. "You're worth something. You know you are. And you are good at what you do."</p>
<p>Crowley sighs. He clearly wants to continue pouting.</p>
<p>Aziraphale places his arm around Crowley's waist. "Ok, enough of this. We're not going to sulk all night. Sometimes we have bad days. Or bad weeks or months. Years even. But you're fine. You are imagining reasons to worry. Cheer up. Or I'll make you."</p>
<p>Crowley tries to scowl, but the edges of a grin peek through.</p>
<p>"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try."</p>
<p><em>Challenge accepted.</em> Aziraphale runs his fingers over Crowley's temple and through his hair, brushing it back over his ear. He leaves his hand there as he leans in and kisses Crowley high on his cheek bone, then again. His other hand lands on Crowley's thigh and rests there gently. "Can I undress you?"</p>
<p>Crowley nods and Aziraphale works open the top buttons of his shirt before taking it gently by the hem and pulling it up over his head. Crowley raises his arms obediently. Aziraphale returns his fingers to the side of Crowley's cheek and leans in to kiss him on the mouth. Presses their lips together softly while his other hand pops the top button of his fly. Crowley leans into the kiss. Parts his lips at the touch of Aziraphale's tongue. Aziraphale tastes like mint. His mouth feels cool instead of hot. A stark contrast to the heat of Crowley’s own mouth.</p>
<p>Aziraphale tugs on his waistband until Crowley finally pulls away to stand in front of him. He unzips him and slides his trousers down his hips. His fingers run over his stomach and the curve of his ribs. Grip his waist to pull him forward until his mouth meets his skin. Crowley lets Aziraphale lead. Doesn't offer resistance as Aziraphale scoots up against the headboard and drags Crowley along with him and into his lap. An arm around his waist and the other already spreading his thighs.</p>
<p>He leans across Crowley for the little white bottle on the bedside table and Crowley's pulse jumps a little in anticipation. Once his fingers are slippery, he drops them between Crowley's legs and rubs teasingly against him. As he does Crowley turns his face to kiss him again. The soft pillows of their lips pressing firmly against one another. Aziraphale lets the tip of his middle finger dip past that ring of resistance just an inch. Crowley gasps as he teases at his sensitive entrance. Just barely circling his fingertip. Pressing in and out a half an inch.</p>
<p>Crowley tilts his hips. Tries to take him further. Aziraphale pulls his lips away and grins. "So impatient..." He slides his finger in fully and Crowley exhales loudly against his cheek. "Is this better?" He nods and wraps an arm over Aziraphale's shoulders to get closer. Presses the side of his body against Aziraphale's broad chest and rests his forehead against Aziraphale's temple.</p>
<p>He withdraws his finger slowly, dragging it over that little fleshy patch that makes Crowley see stars behind his eyelids. His thighs quiver at the pressure and Aziraphale holds him closer with the arm wrapped around his waist. "Is that good?" Crowley nods again and squeaks as Aziraphale presses back inside, rubbing firmly against that spot again. Aziraphale runs his finger in small circles against his prostate and grins at the way it makes his legs shake. At the stuttering breath that he struggles to take as Aziraphale withdraws his fingers an inch, quirking his finger up to keep stimulating that spot, then pushes them back inside slowly. </p>
<p>He does it again. And again and again and again to hear Crowley's groans get louder. More desperate. Less reserved, as he falls under the spell of Aziraphale's hand. He kisses the corner of Crowley's mouth until he turns his head and allows him better access. He kisses him deep and slow but all Crowley can do is huff warm breaths over his lips and nip occasionally. As if he doesn't have full control over his mouth anymore.</p>
<p>Aziraphale slips a second slick finger inside of Crowley but keeps his movements sloth slow. He can feel Crowley's abs tense under the hand still holding his waist. His toes clench and the muscles of his legs contract as Aziraphale massages him from inside. His cock, neglected and red and rigid, leaks against his own belly. Aziraphale is impressed that he hasn't touched himself yet. That he is allowing Aziraphale to spoil him entirely. He remembers the time at Eden when he fucked him against the door and what he'd said after. <em>"I've never come just from..."</em></p>
<p>He whispers against Crowley's mouth, "Can you come like this? Just from this?"</p>
<p>Crowley shakes his head "I..." He whimpers "I don't know..."</p>
<p>"Do you want to try?" Crowley nods. Slowly. Eyes closed. Eyelashes brushing against Aziraphale's cheek. He moves his hand a little faster. Keeps rubbing at that swollen sensitive spot. Crowley's fingers fist in his t-shirt between his shoulder blades and his other hand grasps at the front of it. He writhes gently in Aziraphale's lap. Moans loudly at the stimulation. Clenches tightly around Aziraphale's fingers.</p>
<p>"I love the way you feel. So tight. Hot."</p>
<p>"Angel..." He sets his hips in motion. Rocks back and forth in time with Aziraphale's hand.</p>
<p>"Just like that, darling. Beautiful." His fingers grip tighter in Aziraphale's t-shirt. "Are you going to come for me?" Crowley gets quiet, rocks harder. Faster. He bites at his lip. His eyes screw shut tight. Aziraphale can feel his heart thudding against his ribs. "Oh you're so close. I can feel it. Come for me like a good boy."</p>
<p>Crowley's eyes pop open and he sucks in a sharp breath then howls as he spills heavily across his own belly. His body tenses and his hips stutter up off the bed and his hot open mouth falls against Aziraphale's cheek. Aziraphale keeps stroking that place. Steady and firm as Crowley's body contorts in his lap. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck... Oh <em>God</em>!" He hears a seam on his t-shirt pop as Crowley wrings it up tighter in his hand.</p>
<p>Aziraphale keeps working him until at last Crowley releases his iron grip on his shirt and grabs his wrist to still him. His body still jumps and buckles in the middle every few seconds and   Aziraphale groans quietly at the sight. He slips his fingers free leaving Crowley empty and whimpering.</p>
<p>Crowley gropes clumsily for Aziraphale's mouth with his own. Kisses him sloppily. Hungrily. Presses their mouths together until he has to pull away to breathe.</p>
<p>Aziraphale strokes his hair and holds him close. Crowley pants and leans into him.</p>
<p>"Are we feeling better?"</p>
<p>Crowley smiles, his body still twitching. "Leagues."</p>
<p>"You really do deserve what you have. You know that right?"</p>
<p>Crowley kisses his jaw. "More and more every day."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another one for clear_night_sky. Prompt was dance pole 69. Had a little fun with it. I think that I may have let a little of my <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29030784"><strong>Protect and Serve</strong></a> Crowley and Aziraphale through by accident, but I still like it. </p><p>Up next, by request, will be straight up fluff. Hopefully sometime next week. </p><p>Also, I finally did the twitter thing? I don't know. Maybe if you are doing things there, come teach me how to twitter. @snae_b</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm telling you Angel, I could hang on that pole all day. There is no <em>way</em> you could outlast me " Aziraphale furrows his brow. Scoffs. "You really think I can't do it?"</p><p> Aziraphale gives him an incredulous look. "The way you shake? No way. I'd win every time. Any day of the week."</p><p> Crowley purses his lips. "Your knees give out if I scratch your head just right. They’d go long before mine."</p><p>"We stand <em>all</em> the time. Just last week I bent you over my desk."</p><p>"Yeah, but I'm not usually <em>trying</em> to make you buckle. It's usually in my best interest for you to keep your footing. You’ll crumple <em>and</em> come first. Mark my words."</p><p>Aziraphale laughs. "Oh, you are so on. Don't worry," he smirks "I'll catch you when you fall."</p>
<hr/><p>Crowley eyes Aziraphale as he saunters into the studio space in his best impression of Crowley's cocksure gait. Hips swaying exaggeratedly from side to side. He's even wearing Crowley’s silk robe, although he's left the front untied. It hangs open, swishing over his thick pale thighs as he walks. He isn't wearing anything underneath. Crowley swallows. His cock perks up already. This might be harder than he anticipated. Aziraphale grins at the look on Crowley's face. At his decidedly southern gaze. "You're overdressed."</p><p>Crowley drags his eyes back up to Aziraphale's face. Shimmies out of his boxer briefs. Puts his hands on his hips and smirks. "Better?"</p><p>Aziraphale smiles back. "Aren't you supposed to be..." He waves his finger in the air. Whistles to indicate ‘upside down’.</p><p>"Hardly fair to get up there before you even got in the room." Crowley struts toward the pole. Makes a show of it. Grips it tightly, circles, then lifts off. His biceps flex as his feet rise over his head and he wraps his thighs and calves around the pole. Locks himself in place with his feet. He crooks his finger at Aziraphale as he spins. "Come on then. Don't delay. No cheating."</p><p>Aziraphale crosses the room and stops Crowley from spinning with a hand on his thigh. He looks down at his face, suspended upside down on the pole, eye level with his crotch. He drags his finger up his thigh and admires the muscles staining there. "Would you like me to bring you a pillow for when you fall?"</p><p>Crowley smirks, darts his hand out and grabs Aziraphale by the hip with one hand and the cock by the other. He is still mostly soft, but Crowley isn't deterred. He pulls him forward until he can suck the head into his mouth and begin working him. Circling his tongue around it as Aziraphale begins to grow. To fill his mouth quickly.</p><p>Aziraphale sucks in a breath. Laughs. "Oh you dirty cheater." Crowley pops his mouth off and smirks before running his tongue from the tip to the thatch of curls at its base. He runs his mouth along his shaft and sucks gently. Uses the slickness left in its wake to begin pumping his hand around Aziraphale's length as he returns his mouth to the tip where he bobs and sucks with gusto. Aziraphale braces himself on Crowley's thigh. Breathes heavily. "You really are fucking spectacular at that. <em>Jesus</em>."</p><p>Aziraphale works to gather his composure. He looks calm on the outside, but internally he curses his legs for beginning to tremble slightly already.</p><p>He dips his own head and takes Crowley into his mouth. He decides if he is going to win this little wager, he'll need to go all in <em>fast</em>. No other way to compete with that absolute miracle of a mouth currently playing him like a fiddle. He jumps right in by taking Crowley as far as he can. His fingers gripping his hips and pulling himself forward until his lips brush against that mess of crimson hair. His tongue presses and rolls against his shaft and he feels Crowley's thighs tense. He smiles around his mouthful and slides his slick lips all the way to the tip, flicking his tongue over him once he gets there.</p><p>Crowley groans from his place between Aziraphale's legs and he smiles again. He might just win after all. He's feeling confident. That is until he feels Crowley's fingers prod at him from behind. They are warm and slick and don't hesitate to slip inside of him. The entirety of his torso jumps at the sensation and Crowley's cock drops out of his mouth as his jaw drops. "Oh fuck, that is definitely cheating." He can't help himself, though. He begins to thrust gently into Crowley's mouth.</p><p>There is no way, with the pole pressed tightly against his backside, that Aziraphale can do the same to Crowley. No way to even the playing field. He changes tack. Takes Crowley roughly in hand and shifts his mouth to his sac. Licks and sucks and dips his tongue as close to his backside as possible as he works his prick with his hand. Crowley is still working him expertly below. Taking him deeper than Aziraphale is certain he ever has before. Rubbing his index and middle finger in steady, firm circles against his prostate. His head is already spinning. His legs feel like jelly. He can only hope that Crowley is beginning to feel the same. That he can outlast him. All he needs is for Crowley to come or crash. Then he wins.</p><p>Crowley is trembling, although he tries his best to get it under control. Aziraphale was right. His legs quake every time. He can't help it. Aziraphale just <em>does</em> things to him. It was never this bad before they got together. No one else has ever had this effect on him. If he can't get Aziraphale off first, he is certainly going to come crashing down off this pole. He hopes if he does that Aziraphale will cushion his fall. Or at least slow him down so he doesn't end up with another black eye. Aziraphale is doing ungodly things with his tongue and Crowley squeezes his thighs and glutes together tighter. If Aziraphale gets access to what he is aiming for, Crowley is as good as finished. And this thrusting business isn't doing him any favors either. Aziraphale's pleasure is as good as his own. Feeling him chase after it, feeling that thick warm prick sliding over his tongue and filling his mouth until his jaw aches<em>. Oh lordy</em>. And who would have thought that the tension in his thighs would go straight to his cock. Everything is stacked against him. And on top of everything else the effort of suspending himself upside down is causing him to sweat. Well... That and the coke can in his mouth. And the fact that Aziraphale is jerking him like his life depends on it. He can feel himself slipping slowly down the pole every couple minutes. He works his mouth and his hands faster. He just needs to hang on for a couple more minutes. In more than one sense.</p><p>As if they are sharing a consciousness, they both reach for each other's nipple with their free hand simultaneously. Another desperate attempt to pile more pleasure on top of one another. To overwhelm the other before they can do the same to them.  Aziraphale pinches Crowley tightly and Crowley rubs gently. Each completely aware of the way the other prefers to be touched. They groan in unison. Their bellies move in opposition to one another. Crowley's belly expanding to take up the space of Aziraphale's as it contracts and vice versa. They pant faster and faster with every passing moment. Their hands move quicker but more clumsily. Their mouths desperate and messy and hot.</p><p>In the end Crowley comes first, spilling onto Aziraphale's chest as he trembles and arches away from the chrome at his back and groans and by some minor miracle manages not to vibrate right off the pole onto his face. But it is Aziraphale who buckles. His knees give as he follows Crowley into that deep dive into euphoria. He pops out of Crowley's mouth on the way down, but Crowley is quick. He gets a hand around him and gives him a few solid pumps as he comes, sprawled on the floor next to the pole.</p><p>Crowley grins and places his palms on the floor. Tilts to the right to let his feet drop to the ground off to the side of Aziraphale. He plops into Aziraphale's lap with a grin. "So, who won?"</p><p>He laughs, "I think it was a draw."</p><p>"Rematch?"</p><p>Aziraphale grabs him by the hips and pulls him closer. "Oh, certainly."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, so I know I said fluff was incoming, but I got a request for cockwarming and decided to indulge as a birthday present to myself (lol). Fluff is next though, I promise for really real. </p>
<p>This one is for <b>emmaatkinson</b>! Thank you for your request and for spending your weekend reading and leaving such kind comments on <i>Protect and Serve</i>! Full disclosure, this is a new kink to explore for me, so I hope that I didn't misrepresent it too badly!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale leans over Crowley's shoulder and squints at the screen.</p>
<p>"What on earth is cockwarming?"</p>
<p>Crowley slams the laptop closed and whirls around. Face beet red. His voice squeaks. "Angel! When did you get home?! I thought... I thought you were out for the afternoon."</p>
<p>"No, no. Just had to grab a few things. Tomorrow I’ll be out. Tracy and I are doing lunch and the museum."</p>
<p>"Why are you and Tracy always hanging out? How come I never get invited?"</p>
<p>Aziraphale tuts. "No changing the subject." He gestures at the computer. "What were you looking at there?"</p>
<p>Crowley looks away, face still crimson. "Nothing. It wasn't anything. Internet rabbit hole is all."</p>
<p>"Oh. Well in that case," he yanks the computer from Crowley's grip, "you won't mind if I have a look."</p>
<p>"Angel!" Before he can get his hands back on the computer Aziraphale pops open the screen and walks away a few steps. "Angel, it isn't what you think." Aziraphale stares at the screen. Eyes flitting over the words quickly. The ghost of a smile on his lips.</p>
<p>"Is this something you wanted to try?"</p>
<p>Crowley snorts, rolls his eyes. "No..."</p>
<p>Aziraphale's eyes continue to dart across the page. His cheeks pink subtly. "Oh. Well that's a shame." He closes the laptop as Crowley sputters.</p>
<p>"Well, I mean... If you're interested. I guess...I could, ah, I could be convinced."</p>
<p>Aziraphale grins mischievously. "Oh I wouldn't want to have to <em>convince</em> you. Wouldn't want to pressure you into anything. Let's not worry about it." He raises a brow and Crowley finally caves.</p>
<p>"Ok, fine. Fine. Maybe it's something that I'm curious about. I've read it can be very... relaxing."</p>
<p>"Ah huh. And are you interested in the warming, so to speak, or, um, being warmed?"</p>
<p>Crowley grins nervously. "The warming... part." Aziraphale smiles. "What? I can't help it. You've got a great dick. And I like it when it is in my mouth. And elsewhere. And... You know. I like it when you take the reins."</p>
<p>Aziraphale's brows creep up. "Well... I did need to get some writing done this afternoon..."</p>
<p>Crowley's pupils dilate. He can feel his heart thunk just a smidge faster in his chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When Crowley emerges from the bedroom in his robe he finds Aziraphale already working at his desk. Sunlight streaming in between the lush greenery that surrounds it. He swallows as his eyes land on the little cushion at Aziraphale's feet.</p>
<p>"Oh darling, you look lovely. He scoots his chair back and gestures toward his feet. "I didn't want your knees to get sore. But I wasn't sure if you needed anything else."</p>
<p>"That's perfect, Angel. I don't need anything else."  He looks down. Bites his lip gently. "Just you..."</p>
<p>As he approaches Aziraphale he leans down for one quick kiss. Sweet and simple and just like every other quick kiss they share a million and a half times a day. To say good morning and good night and goodbye and welcome home and I missed you while you were in the other room.</p>
<p>Crowley kneels and crawls under the desk. Lets Aziraphale get situated in front of him. He waits until he hears Aziraphale’s fingers on the keyboard before he reaches out and unzips him. Aziraphale's belly flutters and his typing falters as Crowley pulls him out of his trousers and takes him carefully into his mouth.</p>
<p>The reaction is immediate. Blood engorging him until he is erect and stretching Crowley's mouth wide. He knows that this isn't the point. That he won't be able to maintain a hard-on without more stimulation. And that Crowley isn't expecting him to. But the whole situation is terribly exciting, and he groans quietly as he tries to focus again on the task at hand. He swallows. Stares at the screen. Takes a deep breath and types random gibberish until he can calm himself down. Until he can focus on something other than the heat of Crowley's mouth and the soft press of his tongue and the saliva already pooling around him.</p>
<p>Between his knees Crowley closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose. He wants to hollow his cheeks and suck and lick until Aziraphale is filling his mouth. His own cock strains against his briefs. He can feel a damp patch at the tip. His mouth fills with saliva and it tickles his throat. He tries to ignore it. Focuses instead on the feeling of being full. Lets his mind settle. Thoughts about the club and the wedding and the non-profit melt away. It is just him and Aziraphale and the warm sunlight lighting up his skin.</p>
<p>Aziraphale begins to relax. Deletes the gibberish and actually writes. The American food scene in the fifties and sixties. Jelly and pineapple and fondue. The words begin to flow easily. He pulls up a reference article and as he scans it he reaches down absentmindedly. Runs his fingers through Crowley's hair. Scratches at his scalp lightly. Crowley runs his hand over his calf and lets it rest there. Eyes still closed. He swallows carefully and Aziraphale whimpers softly at the contraction of his mouth. That barely there squeeze. His cock, having gone soft in the meantime, twitches in interest. Swells. Now Crowley whimpers. His fingers squeeze tighter around Aziraphale's calf, but he otherwise doesn’t move.</p>
<p>Aziraphale takes a deep breath and removes his fingers from Crowley's hair. Returns to typing. He wants nothing more than to thrust into that wet heat. Crowley wants it. Aziraphale knows he does. He shifts his hips in his seat. Just enough to nudge himself an inch deeper into Crowley's mouth. A tease for both of them. He can feel Crowley groan around him and he swells that much more.</p>
<p>Aziraphale shifts again and his cock slides out of Crowley that same inch. Crowley's mouth has filled with saliva and the movement draws it out of his lips and over his chin. He wants to gather it up and use it to slick a finger. For Aziraphale. For himself. He's so turned on he doesn't even know. His fingers twitch toward his own prick. They land on his thigh before he manages to get his impulses under control. The typing resumes above him and for some reason it only amps up his desire further. The restraint. Being ignored. The feeling of objectification. He <em>aches</em>.</p>
<p>For ten more minutes Aziraphale's erection ebbs and flows. At times he is soft between Crowley's lips and others he stretches him until his jaw begins to tire. Crowley's own arousal remains in overdrive, but it is simultaneously calming. A point of focus. A distraction. His world shrinks to encompass just himself and Aziraphale and that warm spot under the desk. Those gentle fingers find his hair again and brush over his temple and Crowley snaps back to reality.</p>
<p>“I think I’d like you in my lap now.”</p>
<p>Crowley pulls away slowly. Leaves Aziraphale’s prick sopping. As he stands he lets the robe fall to the ground. Aziraphale pulls his briefs over his hips and reaches between his legs to gently remove the plug that is readying him. His legs shake as he situates himself over Aziraphale’s lap and takes him deep inside. Aziraphale can’t stifle the moan that slips past his lips as Crowley leans against his chest and rests his face on his shoulder.</p>
<p>Crowley sits quietly as Aziraphale wraps his arms around his waist and begins to type again. His cock leaks between the warm press of their bodies. Aziraphale hums as he reads through vintage cookbook scans. Or at least pretends to. The clench of Crowley’s body around him is driving him mad. He can feel himself beginning to throb. It thrills him that Crowley can feel it too. That he is feeling equally as wrecked. He squeezes his muscles so that his cock jumps inside of Crowley, pulling out a quiet whimper next to his jaw.  </p>
<p>Crowley funnels every ounce of self-restraint into not rocking his hips. The anticipation is running him ragged. His cock is painfully hard between them. Every time he hears Aziraphale’s hands return to the keyboard he nearly self-combusts. Every few minutes Aziraphale places his hand on his low back and strokes him as he reads. Every little touch makes his heart beat faster.</p>
<p>What feels like an eternity later Aziraphale clears his throat. Turns his face and whispers into his ear. “You’ve been very good for me.” Crowley’s mouth drops open and a quiet squeak tumbles out. Of course. Why <em>wouldn’t</em> Aziraphale tease him in this way. He knows exactly what it does to him. He steels himself for what he knows he’s going to say next. “Such a good boy.” He has to do mental math to keep from coming on the spot. His fingers dig into Aziraphale’s shoulder blades. He can hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice as he continues. “So good I think you deserve a reward. Don’t you agree?”</p>
<p>Crowley nods quickly and without warning Aziraphale stands. Deposits Crowley on the desk in front of him. Wraps an arm around his waist and snaps his hips forward. Crowley shouts as much in surprise as pleasure. He braces his feet on the chair as Aziraphale does it again. Aziraphale pants against the side of his face. “Oh, I’ve wanted to do this for the last…” he thrusts again and Crowley shouts again. All of that anticipation setting all of his nerve endings on fire. “…forty minutes. Oh god.” Crowley reaches between them and tugs at his own cock. Mouth open. Eyes fixed on Aziraphale. Eyebrows creeping up and in. Aziraphale tightens his grip around Crowley’s waist. Braces the other hand on the desk and pounds into him faster. “Forty. Beautiful. Minutes.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, each harder than the last.</p>
<p>Crowley’s legs quake as he points his toes against the arms of the chair. His muscles tense. His fingernails dig deep into the soft skin at Aziraphale’s shoulder blade. His head drops forward as he comes. The heat of his spend spreading between them. Aziraphale squeezes him closer as his entire body shakes with his orgasm. With one last thrust he comes deep inside of Crowley. Fills him with hot pulses. The added stimulation, the feeling of being filled, makes Crowley screech with pleasure. He releases his grip on Aziraphale’s shoulder and collapses backward, half on the desk and half against the wall behind it. Aziraphale collapses in the opposite direction into the chair behind him. Both of them stare quietly at the ceiling as they regain their composure.</p>
<p>Aziraphale reaches out and takes Crowley by the ankle. Lifts his foot and places a kiss on his instep then rests it against his soft, clammy chest. Crowley giggles at the softness of his touch and finally draws his eyes back down toward Aziraphale. Admires the flush covering his face and throat. The soft peaks of his nipples, and broad expanse of his chest, painted with his semen. His plush belly, rising and falling slowly. He grins. Pushes himself up and leans forward to kiss Aziraphale for the first time since he walked in the room. “Thank God you’re such a snoop.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another request by <b>clear_night_sky</b>, this time for fluff! I hope this is sweet enough for you (I'm still working on my fluff skills!). </p>
<p>&lt;3 A little nod at the end to all of the writers and artists that are ensconced in this fandom.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale cuts the delicate pastry into long isosceles triangles using a straight edge to guide his hand. He lays them out on the counter. Dusts them lightly with flour then rolls each gently with a rolling pin, careful not to press too hard. He just wants to stretch them out. Lengthen that shape. Not overwork them. He moves quickly but carefully. Always cautious of the heat in his hands and all of those thin laminated layers he's been constructing for the past three days. He glances at the clock. It is early. The sun hasn't even risen yet. A soft snore cuts through the hush of the early morning hour and he smiles. It's been one year since he, in a drunken rage, stomped down the stairs with the intention of... well... he never really figured out what he was going to do when he got to the flat below his. Never would figure it out. When the door creaked open and he laid eyes on the absolute Adonis in front of him everything changed. He was never the same again.</p>
<p>He carefully rolls each triangle tightly around itself and tucks the slim tapered ends into a crescent shape before quickly placing them all on a sheet and sticking them in the proofing drawer. When he climbs back into bed Crowley stirs. Murmurs softly in his sleep as Aziraphale slides in close behind him and wraps his arms around his waist. He pulls him impossibly close, buries his face in those vermillion waves and kisses the nape of his neck. Crowley sighs in his sleep and Aziraphale feels butterflies in his stomach at the soft vulnerability held tightly in his arms. For the next hour and a half he lays awake holding Crowley close. Breathing in his scent. Listening to his heartbeat. Scattering him in barely there kisses against his hair and ear and neck. From time to time Crowley shifts in his arms. Snuggles closer in his sleep. Mumbles nonsense. Aziraphale grins as he listens. Tries to remember snippets to tease him with later.</p>
<p>At half past six his phone buzzes and, reluctantly, he lets go of his love to roll over and out of bed. Crowley whimpers softly at the loss of his contact. At the cool air tickling all those places kept oven warm by Aziraphale's body. He pads carefully to the kitchen and gets back to work.</p>
<p>Crowley turns over, half asleep and reaches for Aziraphale. The bed is empty. Cool to the touch. He frowns. It's been one year since he was interrupted in the middle of the night by someone pounding on his door. When he pulled it open, ready for an argument, everything he thought he knew about his life was turned upside down. He learned to love and be loved and every single day since, that forest inside of him has flourished. Grown larger and more verdant than he could ever have imagined. And it is Aziraphale that is his sun and his rain. The lifeblood of his now not-so-little forest.</p>
<p>He pushes himself up to the edge of the bed to find his slippers lined up neatly under his feet. He smiles as he steps into them. God only knows where he kicked them off the night before. The whole flat smells like a bakery. Rich and buttery and comforting. To Crowley, though, it just smells like home. Of the life they've built together.</p>
<p>He pauses in the doorway and watches Aziraphale in the kitchen. The morning sun lights up his blond curls. Gives him a wispy halo. He smiles as Aziraphale bends down and pulls something out of the oven with a happy little wiggle. He knows that wiggle so well. He's nailed it. Whatever delectable treat he's whipped up, he is happy with it. Crowley <em>lives</em> for that wiggle. He crosses their flat quietly as Aziraphale turns toward him.</p>
<p>"Mornin' Angel."</p>
<p>Aziraphale's smile outshines the morning sun. "Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?"</p>
<p>Crowley leans against the island and smirks. "Like I was fucked within an inch of my life last night."</p>
<p>Aziraphale laughs as he pushes up onto tip toe and stretches across the counter for a kiss. Crowley meets him halfway. Puts his hand to his cheek and kisses him so softly, so tenderly that tears prick the corners of Aziraphale's eyes. He laughs at himself as he leans back and wipes at his face.</p>
<p>Crowley frowns and circles the island. "What's wrong?"</p>
<p>Aziraphale smiles. "Nothing. Nothing at all."</p>
<p>Crowley wraps him up in a hug and kisses him at his temple. "You're crying."</p>
<p>"Happy tears, darling. Happy tears." Crowley squeezes him tighter. "Honestly, dear. I'm just... just very happy to have you in my life. I feel so lucky every day to have met you." He pulls out of the hug. "You know..." He turns around and faces the oven again. "It was a year ago today that you brought me a little peace offering for all that racket you kept making down here."</p>
<p>Crowley grins. "Is that so?" He is, of course, completely aware of this fact.</p>
<p>Aziraphale turns around holding a dainty little white box stacked with perfectly flaky croissants.  "You brought me a croissant. And tea. And I didn't know it just yet, but in that moment I began to love you." He laughs at himself. Sniffs again. "Silly isn't it? I didn't even know you. But there was a spark. There was something... indescribable." Crowley's lip trembles as Aziraphale holds out the box toward him with a chuckle. "I think I finally did it. I think I’ve finally perfected them." Crowley smiles and plucks one out of the box. They are fresh from the oven. Still warm. When he bites into it, it is buttery and flaky and full of airy pockets that Aziraphale has painstakingly layered into the dough. A half a week's worth of work, on top of a year of experiments and failures and progress, just for their anniversary breakfast. Crowley's heart overflows.</p>
<p>He grins as he chews. "Oh Angel, they're perfect!"</p>
<p>Aziraphale smiles. "Croissants will always remind me of you walking through that door. All pomp and confidence and swagger." He chuckles before he continues. Pictures him leaning against the counter in his too tight jeans and thin, clingy t-shirt. Face painted with a shy smile. "But there were some cracks. Vulnerability. A peek at something softer underneath." He takes Crowley's hand. "And I'm so honored that you let me open up those cracks. See you. Know you." His lip quivers. "Love you."</p>
<p>Crowley looks away for a moment. Falls back on old habits. Lets fear perk up for a moment before he stamps it out. It can be hard to adjust after years and years of feeling unlovable. But Aziraphale has, day after day and week after week and month after month, reminded him in so many ways that he is worthy.</p>
<p>He turns his face back to Aziraphale and cups his hand at the nape of his neck. Pulls him in for another gentle, lingering kiss.</p>
<p>They sniff and laugh and wipe at their faces then tuck into those heavenly croissants. Aziraphale doesn't want to photograph them for his blog and for some reason that makes Crowley's heart ache even more, in that beautiful way that love can do sometimes. They cozy up together on the couch and tear open the pastry and admire all those layers and feed bites to one another. Crowley makes tea just the way that Aziraphale likes it before putting a record on and dragging Aziraphale up to his feet. He wraps an arm around his waist and takes his hand and sways gently to the music. Aziraphale loves to dance. To feel his body pressed up against Crowley's. And Crowley will take any opportunity to feel Aziraphale's breath and his heartbeat so close. They dance like they make love. Sometimes it is silly and they laugh and their hearts race. At other times it is slow and gentle and they simply relax into one another and let themselves move and be moved. Aziraphale rests his cheek against Crowley's chest with a smile. Let's Crowley lead.</p>
<p>The morning drags on slowly and neither of them would have it any other way. Crowley pulls out a familiar little bag filled with sweets from the little French chocolatier. Aziraphale isn’t the only one that measures memories in food. He slips a familiar salted chocolate between Aziraphale’s lips and they recreate that first time. When Crowley quashed Aziraphale's doubts and showed him his love, even though he didn't know that's what it was yet. This time around, though, neither of them spare a thought for Gabriel. This time around they know exactly how to touch one another. They know the tastes and scents and sounds of their lovemaking. Aziraphale knows how to make Crowley shake and Crowley knows how to make Aziraphale curse. And every leaf and flower and blade of grass in both of their forests blooms brighter and stronger under one another's touch.</p>
<p>Afterwards, they lay in a sweaty heap on Crowley's modern leather sofa (Which now overflows with soft blankets and cushions and whose arm is stacked with paperbacks and cookbooks and whose seat now has two bum impressions of its own just like Aziraphale's armchair. One small and one less small and both situated more closely together than you might imagine). Over the past year their post-coital conversations have become less sultry. Less mushy. More domestic. <em>Did you pick up more milk today?</em> And <em>Anathema and Newt are coming by tomorrow. </em>And <em>Stop throwing my linen shirt in the dryer.</em> And <em>Oh my God, couldn't you have farted </em>before<em> coming back to bed?</em> But today is special. Today they continue to kiss and to touch. Fingers tracing jawlines and lacing together and spinning matching engagement rings. Hearts fluttering over Save the Dates and wine selections and first looks. And before they know it they've passed an hour in each other's arms and they're going for another round.</p>
<p>Crowley stares at the ceiling with a smile plastered on his face. "I'll never get tired of that."</p>
<p>Aziraphale props himself up on an elbow. "I would hope not. You're rather stuck with me now." Crowley reaches out and runs his fingers down Aziraphale's arm then over his waist. He leaves them there. Remembers how afraid he was that Aziraphale wouldn't want him anymore for any number of reasons. How he shook as he showed Aziraphale who he was and who he is. And how Aziraphale accepted him regardless. How he loved him even when his confidence wavered and showed him that he would wait for him to catch up. Stuck isn't nearly the right word. Crowley can't imagine life any other way. Like this was written in the stars. Like he was molded specifically to fit with Aziraphale.</p>
<p>He tells Aziraphale all of this and kisses away his tears after. Happy tears. Happy tears.</p>
<p>Before they leave for dinner Aziraphale gives Crowley his anniversary present. He pulls up a document on his computer and steps aside nervously. It is a dedication for his cookbook.</p>
<p>
  <em>To my love. A lifetime together will never be enough. May we walk among the stars together for eternity. </em>
</p>
<p>This time Aziraphale kisses away Crowley's tears.</p>
<p>At dinner they eat too much and drink too much and kiss too much. They talk too loudly and laugh too loudly and love too loudly. They hold hands and take the long route home. They gaze up at the stars and know deep inside that in this and every other life, they will always find one another. It's ineffable.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Come hang out with me on twitter and tell me what I should write next. @snae_b</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh my god, what are you all doing to me? I just can't resist these prompts. So much for writing my diss... </p>
<p>A request for public sex/exhibitionism by <b>divinehedonism</b> and <b>marsch00</b> along with a little Gabriel torment for <b>clear_night_sky</b></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Oh my god, asshole alert. Ten o'clock." Crowley whips around and scans the pub. They’ve stopped in to kill time. Have a quiet pint before their table at the Ritz opens up. Aziraphale whispers through gritted teeth. "<em>My</em> ten o'clock! And don't be so obvious!"</p>
<p>Crowley rolls his eyes and looks over his opposite shoulder. "Oh come on, it can't be that big..." He clamps his mouth shut and scowls. Across the pub Gabriel leans into the personal space of a woman trying to grab a pint for herself at the bar. Crowley rolls his eyes. "What a wanker." Gabriel must feel eyes on him because he turns around slowly and catches Crowley's eye. Scowls back.</p>
<p>Aziraphale chews at the inside of his cheek. "I still can't believe the fuss he is putting up over my old place. I don't know why he can't just leave well enough alone. Those boys aren't hurting anyone. They're respectful and quiet." He sighs deeply. "They don't need any more grief."</p>
<p>Crowley is hit with a surge of gratitude. Not only has Aziraphale accepted him and his past, but he is willing to open his heart that much wider. Make space for strangers that need that love too. Every day it reaffirms that what Aziraphale feels for him isn't pity. That he loves boldly. That he won't let the past define people. Aziraphale is a good person. He believes in second chances, just like Tracy. Crowley tries to dismiss the situation. "That guy is just a bigot. Don't even worry about him."</p>
<p>Aziraphale grins at Crowley. "Maybe he's just jealous. Just giving us a hard time because he can't stop thinking about what I get to get my hands on every night." Crowley chuckles. Shakes his head. "I'd be jealous of me too." His fingers creep across the table until they catch the placket of Crowley's shirt. "Maybe we should give him something to be jealous of." He grips Crowley's shirt in his fist and pulls.</p>
<p>Crowley is still shaking his head. "Angel, I hardly think..."</p>
<p>Aziraphale interrupts as he pulls Crowley closer while simultaneously leaning across the small table. "Either way... He should know what he's missing out on." Crowley smirks as Aziraphale closes those last few inches between them and kisses him hard on the mouth. He doesn't hold back. Absolutely devours Crowley. The tall narrow chair he is sitting on screeches loudly across the floor as he stands and leans further across the table. Sucks Crowley's lip into his mouth. Bares his teeth as he bites down. Crowley gasps into the kiss. A combination of surprise and pain and pleasure and something else that he can't quite identify. Pride? Some version of Schadenfreude? He feels a heat in his cheeks as he wonders if Gabriel is still watching them.</p>
<p>Aziraphale draws away suddenly with a look on his face approaching surprise. His cheeks are pink too. His eyes are wide. His hand is still fisted tightly in the front of Crowley's shirt.</p>
<p>"Oh.." He swallows. Glances down at his lap. "Oh..." He swallows and his cheeks go even pinker. "That..."</p>
<p>Crowley gives him a lopsided grin. "Did that.." He chuckles softly. "...awaken something in you?"</p>
<p>Aziraphale glances over Crowley's shoulder to where Gabriel is rolling his eyes and turning away with a dirty look on his face. He bites at his lip and turns back. "I... maybe?"</p>
<p>Crowley reaches a hand under the table and rests it on Aziraphale's thigh. Lets it creep up an inch. Then another. "Do you want to kiss me again?"</p>
<p>Aziraphale's eyes are two dark pools surrounded by almost undetectable rings of ocean blue. He leans in again. Gets the fingers of his other hand wrapped up in the hair at the back of Crowley's head. Groans quietly into the kiss. He pulls away abruptly. Eyes flitting across Crowley’s face. "I'm going to the loo."</p>
<p>Crowley gapes as he watches Aziraphale walk stiffly but hurriedly toward the toilets. He glances around the pub with a smile creeping slowly across his face. Realization settling in. Aziraphale had been all too pleased to take him in the dressing room. Seemed even more excited that the lock had been broken (or at least they thought so). He jumps up quickly and follows.</p>
<p>The door doesn't even close all the way before Aziraphale is on him. Hands on his hips and mouth on his throat. Backing him up against the sink. Crowley scrambles to keep up. Grips him around the biceps "Angel! Someone could walk in any minute!" He had expected to pop into a cubicle. Get their jollies behind a closed door.</p>
<p>He can feel Aziraphale smile where he is sucking on his skin. "Yeah..." His hand drops to Crowley's thigh. Grips him and pushes him up onto the sink. He brings his mouth to Crowley's jaw as he fumbles with Crowley's belt.</p>
<p>Crowley laughs and shrieks. "Aziraphale!"</p>
<p>"God, I want you so bad. Right now." He gets the belt sorted and reaches for his own.</p>
<p>"What exactly did you.." Aziraphale pulls himself out of his trousers, licks his palm and takes them both in hand. "oh... ok then! Oh... oh god..." Crowley can feel a steadily pulsing throb in Aziraphale's prick where it presses against his own. His own cock swells. He imagines Aziraphale licking his palm again. There is just something so... so <em>dirty</em> about it. He's never quite seen Aziraphale like this. Urgent. Desperate. Greedy. It makes his heart race.</p>
<p>He stares down at Aziraphale's hand where it grips them both tightly. Two swollen leaking heads peeking in and out of his grip as he strokes them quickly. He wraps his ankle behind Aziraphale's thigh. Grips his biceps tighter. He can feel a familiar tingle deep inside of himself. When he flicks his eyes up Aziraphale is staring down too. Mouth open. Hot puffs of air heating up the space between them.</p>
<p>Crowley tries to focus. Tries to think of what Aziraphale wants right now. What is going to drive him mad. He drops his forehead against Aziraphale's and whispers to him between his labored breaths. "Angel, there are people right outside." He can see Aziraphale's cheeks bunch. That hint of a smile. "We're going to get caught." Aziraphale thrusts up into his own fist. His cock dragging alongside Crowley's. Crowley groans just a little louder than he should and Aziraphale sucks in a sharp breath. Does it again. Pulls the same noise out of Crowley.</p>
<p>Aziraphale moans in response. “Oh fuck, Crowley…I’m…”</p>
<p>Crowley reaches a hand between them and wraps it around Aziraphale’s. Watches as his eyes close and his brows pinch together. At the last second Aziraphale cups his hand over both of them. Spurts heavily against his own palm. Crowley uses the new slickness to keep pumping them. Works Aziraphale through his orgasm until he comes too. His spend mingling with Aziraphale’s on both of their hands. They stay like that for a moment. Hands still wrapped up together. Foreheads resting against one another. Chests and bellies heaving.</p>
<p>Crowley laughs as Aziraphale seems to snap back to reality suddenly and glances quickly around the room. He releases them both and stares at his hands with a look of mild panic on his face. Crowley laughs harder and carefully tucks them both into their own trousers as Aziraphale stands there helpless and disheveled. Hands dripping and sticky. Face and throat splotchy as his flush fades. Hair somehow tousled even though Crowley didn’t even touch it. Crowley leans his head against Aziraphale’s chest and giggles. “Well…” The door creaks open and Aziraphale nearly jumps out of his skin, his flush bursting back to life. They both snap their heads toward the door wide eyed. Crowley still seated on the sink. Aziraphale still standing between his thighs. Both of them with cum on their hands. Crowley bursts into a new bout of laughter as Gabriel scowls and walks back out the door. As the door closes Aziraphale finally lets out a loud snort and joins him.</p>
<p>When their giggles subside Aziraphale leans in and kisses Crowley again. “Thank you. For indulging me.”</p>
<p>Crowley grins. “You know… I hear the tablecloths at the Ritz reach the floor.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Maybe their adventures at the Ritz can be another addition?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fuuuuuck. Ok. I couldn't resist. Everyone was so excited for the Ritz, so off we go! </p><p>Public Sex Part II</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With each course Aziraphale gets more and more excited. He can’t remember the last time that he has had such an extravagant meal. And each course is a double delight since Crowley always feeds him a few bites from his own plate. Off of his own fork. Grinning and blushing softly as Aziraphale moans and groans and rolls his eyes up into his head like the ballotine is giving him a blowjob. They have beef tartare and salmon and duck liver and lobster ravioli. Duck and Lamb. One course transitioning flawlessly into the next. All with mouthwatering sauces and garnishes and accompaniments that are almost too beautiful to eat. Wine pairings with each. From the fine wine menu, mind you, not the classic. A little splurge that they rarely indulge in. As the staff whisks away the plates from the main course, nearly licked clean, Aziraphale glances around. Smiles mischievously.</p><p>“Darling.” Crowley perks up. He is familiar with the look on Aziraphale’s face after what happened at the pub earlier. “It looks like you were right about the tablecloths.”</p><p>Crowley grins. “Angel, I wasn’t serious…” Aziraphale pouts a little. Picks at the edge of the tablecloth. Crowley can’t seem to say no to a face like that. He rolls his eyes playfully. “I didn’t say <em>no</em>.” Aziraphale snaps his eyes up. A tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Crowley leans forward. Lowers his voice. “What exactly did you have in mind?”</p><p>Aziraphale darts his eyes around the room again. “I want you to order dessert.” He winks and slips out of view, chair nearly toppling over backward behind him. Crowley sits back quickly, surprised. He was definitely not expecting something so bold from Aziraphale. Here. In the middle of his favorite restaurant. He thought maybe they would just fuck off to the toilet again. That Aziraphale was only teasing about the tablecloth thing. There is a slight commotion as Aziraphale gets tangled in the long white tablecloth on his way down. The table settings lurch toward his side of the table a few inches. Crowley clasps his hand over his mouth and snorts as he hears Aziraphale curse quietly under his breath. The tablecloth on his side of the table rustles and is pushed up onto his lap. Crowley stares down at the not-so-inconspicuous arrangement of the linen where it has been pushed up against his hips. Hand still muffling his shocked giggles. Several seconds and one thunk against the underside of the table later things go still and quiet. Crowley takes a sweep of the room. It is a quiet night. Only a handful of patrons scattered about. But they are still within clear eyesight of more than half a dozen people, not to mention the waitstaff walking brusquely about the space with plates and bottles.</p><p>Crowley is still giggling quietly at the situation when he feels fingers tickle against his thigh. His giggles fade. He releases his grasp on his own mouth and smooths out the tablecloth in his lap, aiming for something a little more natural looking. As he feels his zipper creep down slowly he leans forward on the bench seat and spreads his thighs slightly. Clasps his hands together on the table in front of him and takes a long deep breath.</p><p>He is expecting Aziraphale to pull his dick out of his trousers, that isn’t surprising. But he nearly has a stroke as he grips his waistband and yanks. Pulls the trousers all the way to his ankles. He squeaks and tucks the tablecloth up higher. Whisper shouts through clenched teeth. “Aziraphale!” Any other complaints get caught up in his throat as Aziraphale simultaneously sucks him into his mouth and presses up against him with his index and middle fingers, spitslicked and eager.</p><p>He picks his jaw up off the table as Aziraphale sucks softly. Teases with his tongue.  Circles with his fingertips. He is focusing on biting his knuckles and not sweating through his shirt when the waiter approaches the table.</p><p>Crowley thanks someone that there is a table between them. That he shouldn’t be able to see anything below the waist from his vantage point. The waiter refills Crowley’s water without looking at him. “Have you had a chance to make a dessert selection?”</p><p>Crowley opens his mouth. Closes it again. Aziraphale drags his tongue along the entire underside of his cock. Crowley forces a smile. Picks up the menu in front of him and stares at the words. He was relatively certain that he could read. He’s read books before, right? He furrows his brow. His head is swimming. He clears his throat and looks up at the waiter who is now staring at him patiently. “Right. Yes. We’ll… ah…” Aziraphale does this… this <em>thing</em> with his mouth and Crowley’s entire body twitches. His voice comes out a touch higher than natural “The chocolate mousse and…” Aziraphale presses in with his fingers and he lets out a breathy moan. Does his best to cover it up with a cough. He’ll take that a sign that he ordered correctly. Crowley tries again. Speaks quickly. “The chocolate mousse and the vanilla mousseline.” The waiter nods and turns to leave.  He’s going to need another drink. Against his better judgement he stops him. “and a… a bottle of the Muscat de Beaumes-d-Venise.” He knows it would have paired better with a cheese board than the sweets he’s chosen. But Aziraphale loves it when he busts out any French at all. Even if it is just the name of a wine. And it was the first thing that popped into his head.</p><p>The waiter turns just in time. Crowley’s hands fist in the tablecloth as Aziraphale drops his tongue to where he is stretched around his fingers. Licks at that sensitive expanse as he rubs his fingers against his prostate. His narrow, bony knees clench tightly against Aziraphale’s shoulders. His thighs shake. While his tongue is busy on his hole his hand pumps him quickly. Crowley bites his lip. Tries desperately to <em>not</em> look like he is getting off in the middle of the restaurant. He brings his hands to his face. Props his elbows on the table. “Angel you’re killing me here.” Aziraphale quirks his fingers against his prostate again and he barely stifles a yelp. A trickle of sweat drips down his back.</p><p>Under the table Aziraphale is grinning, tongue lapping at his skin. Fingers pulsing in and out quickly. He’s aching hard. This is, quite possibly, the most exciting thing he’s ever done in his life. And he just jerked them both to completion in a pub toilet not two hours ago. He can feel that telltale tremble in Crowley’s thighs. That little quiver never fails to excite him. He draws his mouth away from where he is fingering him and nips at his thigh. He pumps both hands faster. Moves his tongue to Crowley’s balls and sucks one gently into his mouth. A hand darts under the table and grabs him by the hair. Drags his mouth back up to the leaking cock in his hand. He gets the hint. Wraps his mouth around that hot warm length and it isn’t five seconds later that Crowley is spilling across his tongue.</p><p>Aziraphale laps up every last drop as he continues to milk his prostate. Keeps sucking him until he feels the fingers tighten in his hair. He pulls his mouth and hand away slowly. Sits back on his heels and pulls Crowley’s trousers back up his calves and over his thighs. Crowley lifts his hips, legs still shaking, and Aziraphale pulls his trousers up the rest of the way. Crowley’s fingers join his own and they zip and button him up together. Too many clumsy fingers making more work out of it than it should be. Just as Aziraphale goes to sneak back out from under the table Crowley catches his hand tightly in his own.</p><p>Crowley knows that his cheeks are pink and he is breathing more heavily than any normal dinner guest. He can’t believe he just came. Into his fiancé’s mouth. In the middle of a restaurant. It was terrifying and <em>so fucking hot</em>. He fumbles around with Aziraphale to get himself covered back up. Breathes a quiet sigh of relief when they finally get his trousers zipped. He can feel Aziraphale brace against him briefly as he goes to scoot out from under the table. At that moment three waiters approach the table. Crowley grabs Aziraphale tightly. Stops him from moving. Well… This is it. They’re about to get discreetly kicked out of the Ritz. Crowley’s heart races. Until two of the waiters set desserts onto the table and the third presents a bottle of wine. Stares at Crowley. Glances briefly toward the table with the tiniest hint of a smirk. Crowley darts his eyes back and forth between the bottle of wine and the waiters face. He nods and the waiter expertly and efficiently pops the cork then pours a splash in his glass. Looks at him expectantly. “Oh… right!” Crowley slams the pour back and smiles broadly at him, eyes wild. “It’slovelythankyou!”</p><p>The waiter glances at his colleagues and they depart sharing suspicious glances with one another. Once they are through the doors to the kitchen Crowley yanks Aziraphale up onto the bench on his side of the table. “Oh fuck! The things I do for you!”</p><p>Aziraphale laughs. “I believe <em>you’re</em> the one that got the blow job, dear.” He glances at his lap and Crowley follows his gaze to his <em>very</em> obvious erection straining against the thin fabric. Crowley smirks and grabs him through his trousers. Squeezes. Aziraphale reacts before he can get himself under control. Slams a hand down onto the table loudly and sucks his lip into his mouth. He glances around. Blushes and shrinks under the gaze of everyone in the room with a shy smile.</p><p>Crowley leans in and kisses him softly under the ear. “Next time <em>you’re</em> ordering dessert.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I just wanted to take a minute to say that reading all of your comments is the highlight of my day. Thank you, truly, for taking the time to read and to leave something below. I appreciate it more than you know. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had a bad day so I wrote a little something to cheer myself up. Maybe this will brigthen your day too!</p><p>This one was a request by <b>cheerios_and_wine</b> for head and/or blow job while driving. Fun, fun! Thank you so much for your request and for cheerleading my fics since my first post here. I appreciate you! ♡♡♡</p><p>Do not try at home!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley curses quietly at the traffic. Droves of Londoners trying to escape the city for the weekend. He and Aziraphale are taking the weekend off too. Joining the masses flowing out of the dense urban center toward the countryside. Their little getaway is doing double duty. First off, this is a well deserved break from the hectic social media focused lives that they lead. Aziraphale with his blog and Crowley with his Youtube channel. Both also running popular Instagram accounts with sponsored content and dedicated followers. Both a little too concerned with their engagement and reach. But they’re also scoping out wedding locations. They’re planning on something small. Intimate. Somewhere they can escape with their chosen family and spend the weekend drowning in love and support and probably a whole lot of booze. And so they are visiting a number of wineries and manors in the South Downs. Spending a couple of nights at a charming little air bnb far from any neighbors.</p><p>Aziraphale sips at his tea in the passenger seat as Crowley scowls at the taillights in front of him. “I don’t think that changing lanes every five seconds will actually get us there any faster.”</p><p>Crowley only grumbles in the driver’s seat. He wants to drive. Like <em>really</em> drive. Open her up and give Aziraphale a thrill. They so rarely get the chance to get out of the city and Aziraphale gives him hell when he drives too fast or erratically in London. Too many pedestrians, he says. Crowley grumbles again. This snail’s pace is giving him anxiety.</p><p>Aziraphale picks up his phone and Crowley reaches out and swipes it out of his hand. “No work this weekend!” He drops it into the little pocket in the door as Aziraphale gapes at him.</p><p>“I was only going to pick out a podcast!”</p><p>“Sure you were.”</p><p>Aziraphale crosses his arms over his chest and stares out the window. “I can’t believe you’re taking the M25.”</p><p>Crowley laughs. “You don’t even drive. Don’t try to act like you know.”</p><p>“I have Google Maps, you know. I mapped the winery this morning. Google said we should have taken…”</p><p>Crowley rolls his eyes and interrupts. “You can’t rely on technology for everything.”</p><p>“I’m not! I just like to plan.” It’s true. They’ve only been engaged for a month and Aziraphale already has several pinterest boards and lists and recipes lined up to test (because of course he is going to bake their wedding cake). This weekend they are on a tight schedule and Aziraphale has planned each venue visit and meeting down to nearly the minute. And Crowley’s improvisation behind the wheel is certainly threatening the schedule. Luckily for him, he has a little trick up his sleeve. He’s fibbed a little. Everything is actually scheduled an hour later than he’s told Crowley. He knows that Crowley plays fast and loose with schedules and he wasn’t willing to risk it when it comes to locking down the perfect venue.</p><p>Crowley glances at him. “You just need to relax a little. I’m telling you, you should really pick up yoga. I think it would help.”</p><p>“<em>I</em> need to relax? You’re the one cursing at every other car on the road. And I saw that gesture you made at that sweet old lady just trying to go about her day.”</p><p>“You don’t know she’s sweet. Could be a puppy killer for all you know. At the very least she’s a hazard behind the wheel.” He grips the steering wheel tighter. Grimaces at another driver.</p><p>Aziraphale scoffs. “See! You’re the one that’s wound all tight.”</p><p>Crowley peeks out the corner of his eye, half a smirk on his face. “Well you’ll just have to unwind me, won’t you?”</p><p>Aziraphale smiles. Lets his fingers creep across the center console and come to rest high on Crowley’s thigh. Crowley barks out a laugh at what he assumes is a little joke on Aziraphale’s part. Aziraphale tilts his head curiously. His fingers slip down to that warm space between his legs and Crowley jumps at the intrusion, looks down at his lap with a look of surprise on his face. He’s still laughing. “Angel! Come on, I’m driving.”</p><p>Aziraphale rubs his hand gently over his crotch. “We’re barely even moving. Can hardly call it driving, really.”</p><p>Crowley’s eyes flit back and forth between the road in front of him and Aziraphale’s face, which is going a little pink in the cheeks. “The tint on these windows isn’t that dark, Aziraphale. People can see in.”</p><p>Aziraphale shrugs. Squeezes him lightly. Crowley is starting to get hard in his trousers. “I’ll stop if you want me to.” Crowley shifts in his seat. Spreads his legs out a bit. Presses against Aziraphale’s palm. “Tell me to stop, darling.” Crowley bites at his lip. Smiles. But doesn’t tell him to stop. Aziraphale grins. He leans over and fumbles with Crowley’s fly as they merge onto the M25. The traffic opens up. They move a little faster. Crowley doesn’t have to brake every few minutes. He exhales slowly as Aziraphale pulls him out of his trousers.</p><p>He mutters under his breath as Aziraphale begins to stroke him slowly. “Thank fuck for adaptive cruise control.” Aziraphale leans in and kisses Crowley softly on the shoulder then fights against his safety belt to reach his neck.</p><p>His breath tickles Crowley’s throat. “I don’t know how you do this to me.”</p><p>Crowley huffs out a quiet chuckle. “I think <em>you’re</em> the one doing the doing.”</p><p>Aziraphale shakes his head. “I always <em>want</em> you. So bad. No matter where we are. Or who might be watching.” He twists his wrist. His thumb brushes over the tip of Crowley’s cock. Slips over that sensitive slit. Crowley puffs out his cheeks. Exhales loudly. Keeps his eyes on the road. “I <em>like</em> that people might see. That they’ll know you’re mine. That I can have you wherever I want.”</p><p>Crowley’s mouth drops open. “Goddamn Angel. You can’t just… <em>say</em> things like that. Fucking hell. Ease me into it here. You’re going to make me come. Or wreck. Or both. Probably both!” Aziraphale smiles as he strokes Crowley loosely. Slowly. Not quite giving Crowley what he wants.</p><p>“It’s true. I want you now. In my mouth. Is that ok? Can I have you like that?” Crowley whimpers and nods his head. He isn’t entirely sure that he won’t have to pull over soon, but it feels worth it in the moment. Aziraphale leans over and takes him into his mouth. As gentle now with his lips and his tongue as he was with his hand. Teasing, really. Crowley groans as Aziraphale bobs his head slowly. Grips the steering wheel tightly and tries to thrust up into Aziraphale’s mouth, much to his amusement.</p><p>A lorry passes them slowly. It lingers in the next lane and Crowley snorts. “Oh fuck. Angel, I think we have an audience.” Aziraphale doesn’t hesitate. If anything he finally moves a little faster. Works Crowley like he would in their bedroom. Sucks and moans around Crowley’s cock. Works the length that isn’t in his mouth with his hand instead. Crowley’s hand lands in Aziraphale’s curls. He runs his fingers through his hair gently. “Angel… I…” He swallows. Tries to make sense of the signage. <em>Where the fuck are we? How long until the next exit? </em>As if by the grace of God a junction comes hurtling toward them. At the last minute he swerves to the left and exists the M25. Aziraphale glances up but doesn’t stop. Keeps his mouth wrapped tightly around Crowley’s prick. They aren’t on the main road for more than a few seconds before Crowley takes a sharp left onto a narrow country lane, and they’re on that lane for even less time before Crowley yanks the car to the side of the road onto a little dirt layby.</p><p>Aziraphale finally pulls away and sits up. Looks around. Wipes at his chin with his sleeve. “Where…” Crowley grabs him by the front of his shirt and kisses him hard on the mouth.</p><p>“Backseat. Now. Get in the backseat right fucking now.” He already has his safety belt off and is climbing between the seats, yanking Aziraphale along with him by the shirt. Aziraphale scrambles for the buckle on his own safety belt and falls into the backseat atop Crowley. They each work on yanking their own trousers down around their knees and Aziraphale fumbles around in his little overnight bag on the floor for a bottle of lube.</p><p>When he finally finds it he manhandles Crowley onto his side, presses his knees up toward his chest, and gets two fingers into him before either of them can change their mind. Crowley grunts and lets his head fall back against the door behind him. Stares up into Aziraphale’s face as he opens him up. His hand working in every opposite way from earlier. Rough and desperate and hard and fast. Cars pass by on the lane beside them as Aziraphale slicks his cock with lube and braces himself on Crowley’s thigh. Presses down hard to open him up further and then enters him quickly. He sets into an unrelenting rhythm immediately, sending Crowley bouncing against the door panel. He braces a hand beside his head and grips Aziraphale’s shirt with the other.</p><p>He growls through gritted teeth. “Harder. Fuck me harder. Show me that I’m yours. Show everyone…” Aziraphale’s fingers dig into the pale flesh of his thigh. He reaches out with the other and hooks his thumb into Crowley’s mouth. Peels his jaw open and presses against his tongue until Crowley closes his lips around him and sucks. He snaps his hips harder. Moans and curses as Crowley bites at his knuckle. Crowley reaches between his legs and yanks at his own cock. He pops his mouth off Aziraphale’s thumb and his eyes flutter up into his head. “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”</p><p>Aziraphale groans as another car drives slowly by. He squeezes Crowley’s thigh tight enough he’s sure there will be bruises later. His head drops back, mouth open. “Fuck… You’re mine. Mine.”</p><p>Crowley nods. Little squeaks and groans and huffs bursting out of him with every thrust. His voice comes out broken and desperate. “Yours. I’m yours.” Aziraphale’s orgasm folds him in half, his forehead coming to rest on Crowley’s shoulder as he tries to keep thrusting. He sinks his teeth into his chest and Crowley’s head thunks against the door as he comes too. Aziraphale’s movements are stuttering and trembling and weak, but he continues to thrust into Crowley as long as he can. Until his arms and his legs finally give out and he crumbles entirely on top of Crowley.</p><p>After a moment he wiggles over enough to slot himself behind Crowley on the seat and wrap his arms around his waist. He doesn’t have any trouble at all pulling Crowley up onto his chest and holding him there. He stares at the roof. Listens to the occasional car drive by their heads. Crowley rests his cheek on Aziraphale’s chest, still breathing heavily. Mouth open but curved up into a smile. Eyes closed. Limbs limp. Completely blissed out of his mind. Aziraphale runs his fingers up and down Crowley’s spine until he catches his breath. He lets his fingers wander down between his cheeks and Crowley giggles quietly. He’s a mess. Here and on his chest. And now Aziraphale is too. “We should get cleaned up.” Crowley nods but doesn’t move. “We’ve got a schedule.” Crowley ignores him. Snuggles down into his chest like he’s going to fall asleep. Aziraphale stares up at the blue sky through the window. Thanks someone that he scheduled in that extra hour and squeezes Crowley a little closer.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another request! These are so much fun, so keep them coming (ba dum tss). </p><p>This one is for <b>vanta_black96</b> who requested a little fitting room hanky panky. I took some liberties here, so I hope that you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley can’t believe he let Aziraphale talk him into this. He loves Aziraphale. God knows he’s ass over teakettle, completely, absolutely <em>smitten</em>. But this… He’s fairly certain at the end of the day, this might be one thing he regrets. It’s just so damn hard to say no when Aziraphale peeks up between those long fluttering lashes. Flashes those baby blues. Bites his lip in that way that goes straight between his legs. One little pout and Crowley’s happy to indulge his every whim. But come <em>on</em>. He can dress himself perfectly well. And look… Crowley finds Aziraphale to be so handsome he’s pretty sure it should be illegal. And his wardrobe is classic. Light neutrals in simple cuts. High quality natural fibers with mindful construction. Well sourced leather accessories. Lovely on Aziraphale. Perfect. But essentially the exact opposite of Crowley in every way. Crowley likes flash and shine and edge. Black everything with bright pops of red and plum and pink. Flashes of skin. The tighter the better. And more shoes than you can shake a stick at. And that says nothing of his wardrobe for the pole.</p><p>But Aziraphale had begged to take Crowley out for a little shopping spree. He wanted to buy him some nice options for engagement photos and rehearsal dinners and wedding showers and whatever other million and one pointless pre-wedding events they were expected to hold. And so Crowley, pushover that he is, folded. And now Aziraphale is excitedly pulling options for both of them. Appearing and disappearing and reappearing with armfuls of clothing.</p><p>Aziraphale piles another stack of garments onto Crowley’s arm and flits off between two racks humming and wiggling all the while. “Angel, I think we have enough here. Maybe we should try some things on?”</p><p>Aziraphale pops up from behind a display of sweaters with a smile. “Oh, I am getting a little carried away aren’t I? I just want to grab one or two more things. Why don’t you grab a fitting room and I’ll join you in a tick.”</p><p>A disinterested looking salesgirl collects Crowley’s stack and escorts him to the fitting rooms. They are spacious but the doors are just thick fabric curtains. He lingers outside while the salesgirl arranges the items on a series of little chrome hooks along one wall. He cranes his neck. Tries to get his eyes on Aziraphale again. He only sees little blond flashes here and there and with a sigh he gives up and heads into the little room to inspect the wardrobe that Aziraphale has picked out for him.</p><p>When Aziraphale finally pops into the fitting room with another armful of items Crowley only stares at him, corner of his mouth crooked up and eyebrows high. Aziraphale furrows his brow and frowns. “What?”</p><p>“Angel. Seventy five percent of these are dresses or skirts.”</p><p>Aziraphale blushes a little and glances at his feet. “And?”</p><p>“And if you wanted me to wear a skirt, all you had to do was say something.”</p><p>Aziraphale drapes the remaining garments over the little stool in the fitting room and picks at his cuff. “I don’t <em>know</em> if that’s what I want. I just… I have some images in my head. And I was curious.”</p><p>Crowley tilts Aziraphale’s chin up with his index finger and smiles softly. “Why didn’t you just say so?” Aziraphale shrugs. Keeps his eyes downcast “Aziraphale. All of the things we’ve done. All of the places we’ve done them. Why is <em>this</em> embarrassing you? I put you in lingerie, for Christ’s sake.”</p><p>Aziraphale shrugs again. “I mean…” He gestures toward the dresses hanging limply against the wall. The cuts are all traditionally feminine. Soft. Pale yellows and pinks. Dainty florals and sweet ruffles and thin straps and keyhole details. “It isn’t exactly <em>sexy</em> is it?”</p><p>Crowley tilts his head to the side. Raises a brow. “You think I won’t look sexy in these?” Aziraphale finally peeks up at Crowley with a shy grin. He clicks his tongue and puts his hand on Aziraphale’s chest. “You don’t even know what you’ve gotten yourself into. Oh Angel, get comfortable.” He snatches up the last few skirts and dresses from the stool and pushes Aziraphale backward until he plops down onto it, eyes wide. He dumps the garments onto the floor and whips the heavy velvet curtain closed with a wink.</p><p>Crowley peels his t-shirt off over his head and tosses it at Aziraphale then wiggles out of his jeans. He wishes he could make this part sexy, but there isn’t much you can do when you’re hopping around on one foot and nearly falling over just getting your heel out of the leg opening. He takes solace in the fact that at least he’s going commando today. Aziraphale makes a little scandalized gasp at Crowley’s bare behind and Crowley gives him a little wiggle and a smirk over his shoulder. “Like what you see Angel?”</p><p>Aziraphale grins, lips pursed, and Crowley turns back to the selection in front of him. Runs his hands over the soft fabric and considers his options. He pulls a floaty little minidress out. <a id="back1" name="back1">Petal pink with billowing sleeves and ruffle details</a><a href="#note1"><sup>1</sup></a>. He slips it on over his head and turns around. Runs his hand through his hair and takes a swaggering step toward Aziraphale. The deep V at the chest exposes his collarbones and chest hair. The thick ruffled hem skims over the tops of his thighs. His legs look a million miles long. Aziraphale sucks in a breath as Crowley sways closer.</p><p>Crowley bends at the hips and braces a hand on Aziraphale’s knee. The dress gapes and Aziraphale can see all the way down the front. Crowley licks his lips. “Well?”</p><p>Aziraphale nods. His voice squeaks. “Lets put that one in the maybe pile.”</p><p>Crowley smiles and stands upright. He puts his arms in the air and the dress inches up and exposes him. His cock peeking out only a foot from Aziraphale’s face. “A hand dear?” Aziraphale doesn’t hesitate. Fingers gripping the dress by the hem and pushing it slowly up Crowley’s body and over his head, leaving him completely nude again. Crowley turns quickly and returns to the rows of clothing. He juts his hip to the side as he shuffles through his options. He can feel Aziraphale’s eyes lingering on him from behind.</p><p>“Oooh.” He yanks another dress off a hanger and turns it over in his hands. <a id="back2" name="back2">This one is lilac cable knit with a low neckline</a><a href="#note2"><sup>2</sup></a>. It hugs every inch of his body as he wiggles into it. Exaggerates his slim waist and generously muscled bum. This one is even shorter than the last. Aziraphale lets out a little moan as Crowley turns around and crosses back to him slowly, skimming his hands over his own body as he does. “So sweet, this one.” He turns in a slow circle for Aziraphale. “What do you think? Do you want me to wear this for you?” He runs his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. “What would you like to do to me while I wear it?” He straddles one of Aziraphale’s legs and runs his thumb over his jaw and back into his hair.</p><p>Aziraphale slips his hand around Crowley’s thigh and up under the dress. Squeezes one cheek. His fingers wrap forward so they brush against Crowley’s sac from behind. Aziraphale smiles. “Something very much <em>not</em> sweet.”</p><p>Crowley grins. “In the maybe pile then?” Aziraphale nods and undresses him again. His fingers skimming over his hips and waist and biceps as he peels the little purple dress off.</p><p>Crowley notes the bulge in his trousers as he saunters back to the mountain of dresses. He pushes several options aside and digs deep. Grins at a swatch of fabric peeking out at him. “Oh, I think you’ll like this one.” He slips the dress off the hanger and steps into it. “Zip me?” He feels Aziraphale’s fingers at his waist and then on the zipper. He drags it up slowly and then drops his hands to Crowley’s hips.</p><p>Crowley feels his hot breath on the side of his neck. The whisper of his lips as he speaks. “I think this one is a yes.” It’s a simple little A-line dress. Short like the others. Straight neckline. Thin straps. <a id="back3" name="back3"></a>Black and white gingham that is just Aziraphale’s style<a href="#note3"><sup>3</sup></a>. Crowley exhales softly as Aziraphale kisses him on the neck. His fingers slide down the fronts of Crowley’s thighs and linger at the hem of the dress.</p><p>Crowley leans his head back. Side of his throat long and open to Aziraphale’s mouth. He kisses him there again. Then on his shoulder. Crowley’s fingers find Aziraphale’s and he strokes the backs of his hands and wrists. “Do you want to fuck me in this dress?”</p><p>Aziraphale presses against Crowley’s backside and the dress rides up his thighs. He nods. “Yes.” </p><p>Crowley turns his face toward Aziraphale’s. “You take this to the till and I’ll go get the car.” Aziraphale grabs Crowley’s hips and spins him. Crowley gasps as Aziraphale lifts him by the thighs and presses his back against the garments still hanging behind him, his head coming to rest between two little hooks. The dress rides up around his waist as he wraps his legs tightly around Aziraphale’s hips. Aziraphale kisses and bites at his exposed collarbones. Dips his head and sucks at a nipple that peeks out of the neckline. Crowley bites at his own lip to keep from groaning. “Aziraphale, wait. We don’t even have…” He yelps as one of Aziraphale’s fingers breeches his entrance. Slippery and lubed already. “What the fuck? You totally planned this didn’t you? Didn’t you?!” Aziraphale ignores him. Only grins as he fingers him. Crowley groans quietly. Grabs two handfuls of his hair and drops his head back against the wall. “Oh my God. You were never embarrassed. You just wanted to fuck me in a fitting room! Oh my <em>God</em>, just like that.”</p><p>Aziraphale crooks his finger and rubs his prostate. Adds a second finger and scissors them until he can add a third. Crowley hoists himself up a couple of inches with his thighs as Aziraphale gets himself pulled out of his trousers and lined up. He leans his mouth close to Crowley’s ear. “I <em>was</em> embarrassed. But you’re right. You are sexy. You look so good. Better than I could have imagined.” He slides in all at once, Crowley releasing his grip with his thighs to slip down and meet him halfway.</p><p>Crowley catches Aziraphale’s mouth with his own. Explores his lips and teeth with his tongue as Aziraphale fucks him slowly against the wall. He groans into Aziraphale’s mouth as he gets his other hand underneath and spreads him open, one hand on each cheek, fingers digging firmly into his skin. He thrusts his hips a little faster and Crowley pulls away to kiss at his jaw and cheek and chin. Aziraphale turns toward the mirror to his right. “Look at yourself. Gorgeous.” Crowley turns to his left and whimpers. He can see Aziraphale’s thick cock slipping in and out of him in profile. The sweet gingham dress pushed up over his thighs. Strap hanging over his bicep where it’s slipped off his shoulder. Aziraphale’s own trousers and pants have sagged down to his knees and Crowley watches his thighs and glutes flex as he thrusts up into him. His biceps strain against his simple cotton shirt and Crowley can’t believe how easily he has manhandled him into position. He could stare at the sight all day.</p><p>“How’s everything going in there? Can I get you two anything?”</p><p>They both freeze, eyes wide. Crowley claps a hand over his mouth and Aziraphale smiles. “Just fine, love. Thank you.”</p><p>“I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”</p><p>Crowley’s eyes bulge further as Aziraphale begins to thrust into him again. He hisses through his teeth. “Right outside? What the fuck does that mean?!”</p><p>Aziraphale grabs his wrist and puts his hand back over his mouth. Leans forward and nips at his ear. “It means you’re going to have to try to be quiet.” He snaps his hips up and Crowley is decidedly <em>not</em> quiet. It only turns Aziraphale on more. He really starts to move. Pumps firmly and steadily up into him, Crowley sliding up and down the wall with each thrust. Dresses and shirts and skirts tumbling to the ground around them. Aziraphale pulls his face away from Crowley’s chest where he’s been sucking a red welt into his skin. “Touch yourself. I want to watch you come.” He smirks. “I want to see you try to be quiet.”</p><p>Crowley groans and releases his grip on Aziraphale’s hair. Strokes himself quickly as he watches them fuck in the mirror. He can’t believe how much he likes watching Aziraphale take him like this. How powerful Aziraphale looks. How completely pliant and submissive he feels in this moment. He has to take his hand off his mouth to cover himself as he comes. He bites his lip and clamps his mouth shut but can’t fully stifle the sounds rumbling up from his chest as his orgasm rips through him. His knees squeeze against Aziraphale’s waist and his back arches up off the wall as he feels Aziraphale’s fill him up too. He isn’t any quieter than Crowley and a litany of curse words fall out of his mouth.</p><p>Crowley claws at Aziraphale’s shoulders and pulls their bodies close together as his feet finally slip down to the floor. Aziraphale holds him up as his trembling legs threaten to give out before he can get his footing. “Oh god, Angel.” Aziraphale holds him until his legs find their strength again and then steps away. He returns and wipes Crowley’s hands gently with something soft and warm. Crowley glances down and then snaps his eyes back up to Aziraphale.</p><p>“That’s my t-shirt, Angel!”</p><p>Aziraphale grins devilishly. “I guess you’ll just have to wear this to the till.”</p><p>Crowley gapes. He feels a light trickle on his thigh. “I’m not wearing any pants!”</p><p>Aziraphale doesn’t stop grinning. “I know.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <ol>
<li>
<a id="note1" name="note1"></a><a href="https://www.pullandbear.com/us/mini-dress-with-pintucks-l09391383?cS=626">Dress 1</a><sup><a href="#back1"> [ ▲ ]</a></sup>
</li>

<li>
<a id="note2" name="note2"></a><a href="https://www.pullandbear.com/us/mauve-cableknit-strappy-dress-l04393320?cS=612">Dress 2</a>
<sup><a href="#back2"> [ ▲ ]</a></sup>
</li>

<li>
<a id="note3" name="note3"></a><a href="https://www.pullandbear.com/us/gingham-dress-with-straps-l04393409?cS=250">Dress 3</a><sup><a href="#back3"> [ ▲ ]</a></sup>
</li>
</ol>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We're back at the Ritz for another request! Here's a little voyeurism for <b>marsch00</b> and a little revenge for Crowley which I'm considering a request, even though it was really only mentioned in passing by <b>Phantomstardemon</b>. </p><p>Borrowing a horny little plot device from <i>Protect and Serve</i> for this one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley sits down in the booth with a huge grin and scoots to the far side. He turns his face up to Aziraphale and pats the seat next to him. Aziraphale rolls his eyes but smiles softly. His cheeks are pink and his hands tremble slightly as he eases himself gingerly into the booth.</p><p>Crowley hands him a menu and sets his phone on the tabletop in front of him. Aziraphale tries to focus on the menu but he can't stop flicking his eyes back to the phone every few seconds. Anticipation making his belly tingle.</p><p>"You know, Angel, I think the waiter must like us. You notice we're always sat in his section?"</p><p>Aziraphale adjusts himself in the booth. His body twitches a little. "I... I'm certain it's just a coincidence, darling." Aziraphale returns his gaze to the menu and concentrates. Scans the options. They're only in for a glass of wine and a quick dessert. That was the deal. Aziraphale isn't sure he can handle much more than that. He’s been hard since they walked through the door.</p><p>Crowley watches him intently. Chin propped on his palm, elbow on the table. He’s still smiling as he watches him stare blankly at the menu. "He definitely knew."</p><p>Aziraphale glances at Crowley again. "I'm sorry?"</p><p>"Your little stunt under the table. He knew." Aziraphale grins at the menu. Considers if they should order the crêpes suzette. "I wonder if he'll catch on today too." Crowley swipes open his phone and taps the screen and Aziraphale's mouth drops open. His eyes close slowly as his fingers begin to crinkle the edges of the menu. Dessert may just end him today. </p><p>Crowley leans over and places a soft kiss on his jaw. Whispers in his ear. "Does that feel good?"</p><p>Aziraphale only nods slowly. Closes his mouth and forces his eyes open. The first thing he sees is Crowley biting his lip and grinning at him. "What do you say? Crêpes or no?" Aziraphale only stares. His brain is short circuiting. Crowley licks his lips. He can't get enough of those pink cheeks and blown pupils and continuously contracting fingers making fists around the edge of the menu. The positions are usually reversed. Crowley is usually the one painted head to toe in a blush while Aziraphale takes him apart. This is equally as satisfying for him. He leans in and whispers. "Color?" </p><p>Aziraphale's lips quirk up as the waiter approaches the table. He reaches a hand out and puts it on Crowley's cheek. "Green, darling. Very green." He grins wider and leans forward that extra few inches. Kisses Crowley softly on the lips. It is gentle and sweet but lingering and when he pulls away Crowley nearly topples forward chasing after him. This is supposed to be payback. Crowley making <em>Aziraphale</em> fall apart in public this time. He has been looking forward to watching him make a selection from the wine menu while hugged tightly around a thick vibrating plug that Crowley can control with the touch of his finger. To seeing him try to keep quiet while coaxed out of his trousers and set upon with his devilish fingers. All right in the dining room of the Ritz on a quiet Sunday afternoon. This was Crowley's happy revenge. But already Aziraphale has the upper hand. Already Crowley's cheeks are nearly as pink and he's certain his heart is thumping just as quickly against his ribcage. It really isn't fair what Aziraphale does to him.</p><p>The waiter clears his throat and when they look up they find his cheeks rosy with a flush too. Aziraphale manages a soft smile. His voice is quiet. "Goodness, apologies."</p><p>The waiter smiles back. Glances at his feet for a moment. "None necessary." Crowley swallows. This is... new. He's pretty sure he should be jealous of the waiter's obvious interest in his fiancé. Possessive maybe. But instead all he is, is aroused. He knows he'd never need to worry. He trusts Aziraphale whole heartedly. And so watching this handsome young man covet him only makes him feel... <em>something</em>. Pride? Praised? He isn't sure. Either way, you'd think he was the one receiving attention the way it is going to his cock. He realizes that Aziraphale is speaking. And far too coherently for his liking.</p><p>"... a bottle of the Crémant de Loire..."</p><p>He swipes up his screen and taps the little plus sign and Aziraphale squeaks mid-sentence. The waiter furrows his brow and squints at the phone then smiles. "Oh! You have the updated vers..." He trails off, eyes wide, and then clamps his mouth shut. His eyes flit back and forth between Crowley and the phone and Aziraphale, cheeks growing a shade darker.</p><p>Crowley stares up at him, brows climbing toward his hairline.<em> Oh shit. He definitely knows.</em></p><p>Aziraphale doesn't miss a beat even as his breathing ramps up. "Oh. So sorry..." His subtly trembling finger hovers over the power icon on the screen.</p><p>The waiter sputters. "No!" His face flushes even deeper and he wrings his hands together. "No need." He smiles shyly at both of them. "I mean... my mistake. Wrong app. I'll be back shortly with your wine. And if you need anything at all..."  He stares at Aziraphale as he finishes his sentence. "I'll keep an eye on you."</p><p>As the waiter hurries away Aziraphale turns back to Crowley with a slightly worried look on his face, but he's met with Crowley's mouth before he can get a word out. Eager lips surrounding him and curious tongue plunging forward. A quiet moan slithering from his throat into Aziraphale's. When he pulls away he's panting slightly. "Angel, we can stop whenever. Just say the word. But I am green all the way. Oh my God. He wants you so bad. I didn't... I don't know..." He leans forward and kisses Aziraphale again and over his shoulder he can see the waiter looking their way. He pulls away and puts his hands up. "Sorry! Sorry. I don't want to pressure you. Where are you? How are you feeling? Talk to me. We can leave right now if you're uncomfortable. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you without…"</p><p>Aziraphale only grins and quiets him by kissing him again. He squeezes Crowley's hand then places it on his own thigh. "Green."</p><p>Crowley groans and begins to move, impatient suddenly. Aziraphale hurries to cover himself with the menu. He whimpers as Crowley fingers creep slowly over the tent in his trousers, skim across his balls, and come to rest on the flared base of the plug tucked in between his cheeks. He circles it, wandering from time to time to Aziraphale's body and brushing lightly over him, sending goosebumps racing down his thighs. The vibrations make his fingers tingle. With the opposite hand he changes the setting on the app and the vibrations transition from a slow steady rumble to a pattern that builds repeatedly. Low to intense over the course of several seconds. He presses firmly up on the base and Aziraphale clasps his wrist. "Oh <em>Lord</em>." Crowley smirks. Wraps his ankle and knee under Aziraphale's and spreads his legs under the table.</p><p>Aziraphale leans his head toward Crowley as the waiter returns with their wine. Crowley doesn't remove his hand but he stills it. Keeps the tip of the plug tilted forward so it rumbles against Aziraphale's prostate as the waiter presents the bottle and pops the cork.  The toy rumbles away. Low and slow to intense and then back to a whisper. As it cycles back and forth Aziraphale grips Crowley's wrist tighter. His leg trembles where it is draped over Crowley’s knee. He chews at his lip as the waiter eyes them both. Crowley rests his chin on the heel of his hand again and speaks sweetly to him. "I believe you're supposed to let the young man here know if you like it."</p><p>Aziraphale stares at Crowley. His eyes blink slowly. He glances at his lap and then back to the waiter. "It's... It's very good."</p><p>Crowley chuckles. "The wine, dear. The wine."</p><p>The waiter's eyes are as big as saucers as Aziraphale blushes prettily and looks away. "Mmhmmm. The wine. Too. Lovely."</p><p>The waiter sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and tries not to smile. Crowley only laughs again. Stages whispers to him. "I think you're supposed to taste it first."</p><p>He turns to Crowley with big sleepy puppy dog eyes. "Hmmm?"</p><p>Crowley takes mercy and grabs the glass. Takes a sip and smiles. "Perfect. Thank you.” Crowley touches Aziraphale’s chin with a finger. Tilts his head up gently.  “Angel, while he's here, you wanted to order dessert, yes?"</p><p>His voice is quiet. Cracks slightly. "Crêpes. Please."</p><p>The waiter nods and when Aziraphale lifts his eyes again he's gone. Crowley opens his mouth to speak but Aziraphale cuts in. "Please. Please touch me. I can’t stand that you’re not touching me. Please…" Crowley whimpers at the sight of his beloved so thoroughly wrecked and desperate. His wet lips and damp forehead and splotchy throat. He can feel his pulse thumping in his thigh where his arm is draped. Fingers still holding the plug to his prostate. He releases the pressure there and Aziraphale’s body relaxes just a touch. He runs his hand up, drags him out of his trousers and slides his hand down his length then back up again. Twisting his wrist just the way he knows he likes it. Aziraphale leans back. Spreads his thighs and looks up at Crowley through his lashes. And again Crowley feels like the one being taken apart. "Fuck, Angel..." His hand speeds up and Aziraphale mewls quietly.</p><p>"You're so good, Crowley. So good to me." He reaches out and puts his hand on Crowley's cock. Smiles when he finds him hard too. Smiles brighter as Crowley groans, hips twitching up toward his touch.</p><p>Crowley growls. "Angel. It's your turn. Besides." He licks his lips and nods to the waiter in the distance, who is still watching them intently while he pretends to be polishing spoons. "He wants to watch <em>you</em> come. Not me."</p><p>Aziraphale's chest moves faster. His belly clenches and his thighs flex. "Is... Is he watching us? N-now?"</p><p>Crowley nips at his shoulder playfully. "Can't take his eyes off you."</p><p>"Oh God. Crowley, darling. I'm..." The plug surges and Crowley snatches a linen napkin off the table just in time. The menu slips from Aziraphale's fingers and drifts to the floor as he spills over Crowley's fist. Crowley nearly follows just watching his face. Mouth hanging open. Brows high. Chin dropping toward his chest. Eyelids fluttering.</p><p>His voice is high and raspy but only barely a whisper, “Oh fuck, Crowley. Oh <em>fuck</em>.” His fingers dig into Crowley thigh a little deeper with every spurt and twitch of his cock, until suddenly they are scrambling for the phone. Crowley gets there first. Taps the power icon and stills his hand as Aziraphale puffs out short breaths toward his navel.</p><p>“Good?”</p><p>Aziraphale chuckles. “Very good.”</p><p>Crowley’s hand is sticky and warm under the white linen napkin. “You want to, ah…” He laughs. “Just, lean forward for a second.” Aziraphale isn’t fully in charge of his faculties yet, but he obeys and shields his lap with his body while Crowley cleans him up quickly and gets him back into his trousers. He tucks the napkin into his coat pocket discreetly and kisses Aziraphale on the cheek. “Did you want to run to the toilet?”</p><p>Aziraphale gapes. Stares wide eyed. “Crowley… I just… I don’t think I can…”</p><p>Crowley laughs. “No! I mean. You know. Take out the toy.”</p><p>“Oh! Oh, um. I..” He smiles. “I think I need a minute before I can walk again. Properly, at least. In the meantime…” His fingers land back on Crowley’s crotch and Crowley scoots away with a laugh.</p><p>“No way! Let’s just have sex at home like normal people.”</p><p>Aziraphale grins. “And here I thought you could use a little spanking for being such a naughty tease.” Crowley smirks back as the crêpes arrive.</p><p>-</p><p>They finish their dessert, delivered to the table with trembling fingers and a set of eyes that never leave Aziraphale’s blushing face, and Crowley swipes his card. The waiter hands him a receipt and hurries stiffly toward the kitchen. He squints at the receipt and then laughs. “I think this is for you, Angel.”</p><p>He hands the receipt to Aziraphale. At the bottom is a short note scrawled in red pen. He glances up at Crowley. “What on earth is <em>Gomorrah</em>?”</p><p>Crowley grins. “Think <em>Eden</em> but with way more gay sex.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Will the boys check out <i>Gomorrah</i>? Of course they will! But we've got a request for some angst and I think they should go back to the bedroom for a few rounds first, what do you think?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A request from <b>clear_night_sky</b> for angst! You wanted a little cry, right?</p>
<p>This one is a bit heavy. Content warning for references to past rape/injury (non graphic). </p>
<p>Back to our regularly scheduled fluff and smut soon!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It feels a little bit like someone has grabbed Crowley’s hold on the world and yanked it sideways. He feels untethered. Off balance. It makes his head spin and his stomach churn. His fingers aren’t listening to his brain anymore. They’ve engaged, instead, in something more primitive. Instinctive. Millions of years of evolution taking over and fight or flight kicking in to free up his hands for whichever path he takes. The pint glass that he’s holding slips. The rim skimming over the ridges of his fingerprints and out of his grip. He can hear himself suck in a sharp breath as it begins to plummet to the ground. Can feel the warm air of the pub rush over his lips and into his mouth. Even into his throat. But somewhere between there and his lungs it seems to vanish. Dissipates into nothing and leaves him feeling like he’s beginning to suffocate.</p>
<p>The pint glass is hovering somewhere around his navel when his heart gets in on the action. Crashes wildly inside of that ivory cage meant to protect it. But not in that sweet singsong way that it does when Aziraphale smiles at him or in that desperate brutal way it tends to when Aziraphale has him on his hands and knees. This thumping is erratic and uneven and <em>hurts</em>. It feels like a heart attack. It feels like he is dying.</p>
<p>The pint glass, frothy ale now sloshing over the rim, is in front of his knees when his fingers go fully numb. His palms tingle and sweat and shake. Pins and needles race over the backs of his hands and up his wrists to his elbows.</p>
<p>He knows this feeling like an old friend. But every time he is convinced he is dying. Even though he knows that it is just Fear. She’s stretching out and reaching into his fingertips and down into his toes and wearing him like a skin suit. The heavy glass hits the floor of the pub but it is Crowley that shatters into a thousand pieces.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The first thing that Crowley felt when he woke up on that day was the plush carpet against his cheek. He didn’t feel broken yet. He felt this warm soft cushion beneath him and felt held. It would be the last time in many months that he would feel safe and secure. The illusion was crushed almost immediately. Replaced with a pounding in his head and an ache deep inside of his body. He began to remember, but only in bits and pieces. A watercolor painting dropped into a murky puddle. The shapes and colors are there but they’re drifting and smudging and melding into one another and as he comes to it is harder and harder to keep them separate.</p>
<p>A line of white powder on mahogany.</p>
<p>A spinning room.</p>
<p>Rough hands on his waistband.</p>
<p>The door slamming.</p>
<p>He doesn’t move. He keeps his eyes closed and his mouth closed and his heart closed and he hopes that maybe if he concentrates hard enough he’ll wake up and realize it’s all just a bad dream.</p>
<p>Time creaks by. Quickly. Slowly. He isn’t sure. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything anymore. Eventually he drags his knees up under his body and pulls his trousers up with trembling hands. He rests his forehead on the floor and takes a deep breath and finally opens his eyes. Finds his feet and then a wad of cash on the bed that he wasn’t even good enough for.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Crowley blinks and the air around him is cold. His arms are covered in goosebumps. There are hands on his body and he shrinks in on himself and lashes out. “Don’t touch me!”</p>
<p>The hands yank away. “I’m so sorry! Darling…”</p>
<p>His eyes snap up. Aziraphale is kneeling in front on him. They are on the street. Crowley is slumped against the outside of the building, his back pressed up against the cold brick behind him. His knees drawn up into his chest while he trembles uncontrollably. The ankles of his trousers are damp and smell like yeast and wheat. He can only stare at Aziraphale’s face. His brows drawn tightly together with worry. Mouth a thin straight line. His hands hover near Crowley’s knees and it is clear he wants nothing more than to reach out. Crowley inhales deeply, gasps really, as he scrambles forward and into Aziraphale’s arms. “I’m sorry! I’m… I didn’t mean to.” Aziraphale wraps his arms tightly around Crowley’s shoulders and holds him. His knees on the dirty pavement and Crowley’s hands fisted tight in his shirt and both of them shivering against the bitter winter wind.</p>
<p>He holds him as he sobs quietly against his chest. He holds him until Crowley can catch his breath. He holds him until the front of his shirt is covered in snot and his knees ache and his fingertips go blue. Stroking his hair and running his palms over his bare arms to try to warm him and whispering over and over that he is ok. That he is safe.</p>
<p>Time creaks by. Quickly. Slowly. He isn’t sure. It doesn’t matter. He’ll hold him as long as he needs.</p>
<p>Eventually Crowley catches his breath enough to speak. “It was him.” Crowley had looked up from his pint as Aziraphale laughed and gestured animatedly and over his shoulder he’d seen the man who had left him on a hotel room floor bleeding and used.</p>
<p>Aziraphale helps him to his feet. Rubs his arms to try to soothe away the goosebumps. “Stay here. I’m going to get our things and we’re going home.”</p>
<p>Crowley reaches for him. “No! No, please. Don’t leave me here.” He can feel the panic attack building again. Fear cutting teeth in his belly.</p>
<p>Aziraphale lets his fingers slide down his arms to his hands. Squeezes. “Thirty seconds. That’s it. I promise. I’ll get our coats and our scarves and we’ll go straight home. I <em>promise</em>. Thirty seconds.” He kisses Crowley softly on the forehead. “Count with me. One. Two.” He dips his head and catches Crowley’s red rimmed eyes with his own. “Three.”</p>
<p>Crowley nods. “Three. Four.” Aziraphale slips quickly into the pub and Crowley’s head drops back against the brick. He shakes and his eyes brim and his leg bounces up and down. He whispers the numbers to himself. “Five. Six.” He swallows and glances around the street. It is dark already, even though it is early. “Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.” The street is quiet. A few stray snowflakes fall around him. “Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.”  He clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides. He takes a deep breath. Holds it. <em>Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen</em>. Exhales. <em>Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. </em>He pauses. Fidgets. Spins his engagement ring on his finger. <em>What is taking so long.</em> He whimpers quietly. “Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six.” He pushes off the wall and peeks toward the pub windows. It is dark inside too. Hard to see anything going on inside. “Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight.” His voice breaks and a tear spills onto his cheek.</p>
<p>The door bursts open and Aziraphale hurries out. “Twenty-nine. Thirty. I’m here, love. I’m here. I’d never leave you.” He whips Crowley’s coat over his shoulders and wraps his arms around him again. “Let’s go. Let’s go home.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Back in the safety of their own home Crowley crumbles again. But Aziraphale is there to catch him. He peels off his coat and tugs one of his own sweaters down over Crowley’s head and pulls him down into his lap and rocks him like a child.</p>
<p>Crowley clings to him. “I’m sorry I shouted at you. I didn’t realize… I was lost. In my head.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale shushes him. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”</p>
<p>Crowley sniffs. “I don’t know why it hurts so much. I was there to have sex with him. He was paying me to have sex with him.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale tilts his face up by the chin and wipes his cheeks. He furrows his brow. “It doesn’t matter why you were there. It doesn’t matter one iota.”</p>
<p>Crowley wipes at his face. “Comes with the territory, though, doesn’t it? I was a rent boy. I knew what I was getting into.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s face drops. He takes either side of Crowley’s face into his hands. He knows that this is shame speaking. Not his bright, beautiful, vibrant Crowley. “Darling! You know that isn’t true! You aren’t at fault. You were never at fault. It didn’t matter how you made money. It didn’t matter if you were there to have sex with him. Once you were unconscious that choice was taken from you. What he did to you was wrong. Awful.” Aziraphale wipes at his own tears. “How anyone could do that to you…” He hugs Crowley tightly as his face crumples. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that the world can hurt so much. But don’t you <em>ever</em> try to blame yourself for what happened. You didn’t deserve that. You weren’t asking for it.” He kisses Crowley at his hairline and then his eyelids. The apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose and finally, softly, on his lips. “You deserve love. To love and be loved. And I can’t go back and change what happened that day, but I can show you today and for the rest of our lives exactly how worthy of love and care and safety that you are. I promise I will. I <em>promise</em>. But you need to promise me, too. Promise me that you’ll let me.”</p>
<p>Crowley nods. Kisses Aziraphale too. “I promise.”</p>
<p>For the next hour they simply hold each other and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. They kiss softly and gently and slowly. Aziraphale knows he’ll never be able to take all of the pain away, but for now he can soothe and be a safe haven until Crowley can brave the world again. They make their way to bed and lie face to face. Aziraphale brushing Crowley’s hair behind his ear and stroking his cheekbone and leaning in every few minutes to sprinkle him with kisses across his puffy red face. Crowley closes his eyes and remembers that he is worthy.</p>
<p>When Crowley drifts off to sleep Aziraphale slips out of bed quietly. Pulls the blanket up under his chin and kisses him gently on the crown of his head. Whispers into the quiet of the night. “I love you darling. More than life itself.” He pads quietly into the kitchen, climbs up onto the countertop and reaches all the way to the back of the top shelf for a small tea tin. He draws a small plastic card out of his pocket. Puts it into the tin and tucks it away.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“Three. Four.” Aziraphale lets the door swing closed behind him and scans the pub. <em>Five. Six.</em> There. Belly up to the bar. Sipping from a rocks glass. <em>Seven. Eight.</em></p>
<p>Before Crowley had even dropped his pint, Aziraphale had known something was wrong. His face had dropped. All of the color had drained away. Aziraphale had never seen him look like that before. Like a frightened animal caught in a trap. Like he was ready to chew his own leg off to get out of there. The glass had exploded at their feet and Crowley had cowered as the man walked by and then was out the door in two steps. Crowley didn’t need to tell him. He knew exactly who the man was.</p>
<p>Aziraphale moves quickly and quietly across the bar. <em>Nine. Ten.</em> He snatches the man by the back of the neck and drags him off of the barstool. <em>Eleven. Twelve.</em> The man flails in confusion. Stumbles forward as the barkeep stares on wide eyed. <em>Thirteen. Fourteen. </em>Aziraphale smashes the door to the toilets open with one palm and drags the man inside with the other. <em>Fifteen. Sixteen.</em> He presses the man up against the wall, hand still wrapped firmly around the back of his neck. His cheek and nose are smashed sideways against the graffiti. His eyes dart frantically. <em>Seventeen. Eighteen.</em> <em>Nineteen. Twenty.</em> With his free hand Aziraphale draws the man’s wallet out of his pocket and slides his license out. Presses it against the wall next to his face.<em> Twenty-one. Twenty-two.</em> <em>Twenty-three.</em>  He leans in close and hisses in the man’s face. “I know what you did. I know who you are. I know where you live.” The man winces as he grips his neck tighter. He wants to do so much more. But Crowley needs him. <em>Twenty-four. Twenty-five.</em>  Aziraphale releases the man. He pockets the license, smooths his shirt, and walks calmly out of the toilet. Finds his and Crowley’s things where they had abandoned them and strides for the door. <em>Twenty-six. Twenty-seven.</em> He can see Crowley outside looking for him. <em>Twenty-eight</em>. He opens the door and steps out into the cold.  Crowley’s face crumples and Aziraphale hurries toward him. “Twenty-nine. Thirty. I’m here, love. I’m here. I’d never leave you.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>In the morning the sun is shining but the air of the room is cold. Crowley curls closer to Aziraphale’s chest. He can feel Aziraphale’s fingers tracing quiet shapes on his back. His hand pauses and he takes a deep breath. “Crowley. I have something I need to tell you. About yesterday.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <i>Aziraphale could never keep a secret from Crowley. He promised to always be honest and open.</i>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, so the last chapter got a bit more attention than I anticipated and there was a flurry of requests to continue the storyline a bit. I didn't mean to leave you all hanging! </p>
<p>I whipped up a quick little continuation to ease your minds. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley holds his breath. All of those old fears are so hard to keep at bay. He knows better, but he can’t help but think that Aziraphale is ready to rip off the bandage. To tell him that he’s too broken. That he’s too much work to love. He squeezes his eyes shut and reminds himself of Aziraphale’s promise. Reminds himself of his own promise. He exhales. Lets go. He knows that Aziraphale will catch him.</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s voice cracks as he continues. “I was so angry.” Crowley swallows. His fingers grip Aziraphale a little tighter. “That he was just having a drink and living his life like it was no big deal. That he didn’t even recognize you when he came in. I was so angry that when I went back in the pub I… I’m so sorry Crowley, but I confronted him.”</p>
<p>Crowley pushes himself up off of Aziraphale’s chest. He hovers over him with his jaw hanging open. “You… you what?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale scrubs his hand over his face. His fingers hover tentatively then come to rest on Crowley’s forearm. “I’m so sorry. I know it wasn’t my place. I shouldn’t have gotten involved. But seeing him there. I wanted him to be afraid. I wanted him to feel a fraction of the pain that he caused you. So I…” He cringes. “I may have threatened him.”</p>
<p>Crowley gapes. Searches Aziraphale’s face. “You threatened him?” His eyes brim and Aziraphale reaches out. Presses his palm to Crowley’s cheek.</p>
<p>“Oh darling, please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I just had all of this… this rage.” Crowley is shaking his head slowly. “And when I went back into the pub I just… I grabbed him. Put him against the wall and basically told him that I was watching him.”</p>
<p>Crowley’s eyes go wide but the corners of his mouth twitch up. His voice is so low Aziraphale almost can’t hear him. “You did that for me?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale stares into him. “He hurt you.” Crowley stares back. Awed. He puts his hand on top of Aziraphale’s where it still rests against his cheek. Turns into his palm and kisses him there. Aziraphale brushes a tear off of his chin with his other hand. “Are you angry with me?”</p>
<p>He shakes his head and smiles. “No, Angel. I’m not angry with you. No one’s ever done something like that for me.” He sniffs. “I was having a panic attack and you were going after the guy. I was doing breathing exercises and you were confronting him. For me. For <em>me</em>.” He glances around the room. Eyes fogged over. Mouth slack. Like he can’t possibly believe that someone would do that for him. He laughs a little. “You grabbed him?”</p>
<p>“I, ah…” He half smiles, half cringes. “I dragged him to the toilets by the back of the neck.”</p>
<p>Crowley’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head but he’s laughing. It all feels absurd. “Angel!”</p>
<p>“I’m telling you. I was furious. I was so worried about you. My heart was breaking, Crowley. Seeing you hurt like that. I just wanted to take it all. Take all that pain and put it on him instead. Make him know what it was like to be afraid. I didn’t even think about it. I just snatched him up and took his wallet…”</p>
<p>“You took his wallet?!”</p>
<p>“I took his license.”</p>
<p>Realization settles in. “You… you took his license.” Aziraphale nods. “You know his name.” Crowley feels heavy. He lays his face back onto Aziraphale’s chest. Listens to the steady beat of his heart. Turns the thought over in his head. Aziraphale strokes his hair.</p>
<p>“And he knows that I know. And I hope that I’m in the back of his pathetic little mind every day for the rest of his miserable life. I hope he spends his days looking over his shoulder.”</p>
<p>“Angel…”</p>
<p>“If you ever want it. All you need to do is say the word. But I’m happy to carry that myself. I’ll carry that for you. For the rest of my life if I need to. I’ll do that for you.”</p>
<p>Crowley wraps his arms tightly around Aziraphale. Sinks into him. He doesn’t want to know. Not yet. And he is filled with gratitude that Aziraphale knows that intuitively. That he knows how to care for him in this way. His face scrunches in the middle as he blinks back tears. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale hugs him back. “You don’t need to thank me. Darling, I’d walk into hell and back for you. This is the least I can do.”</p>
<p>There is a flurry of movement and suddenly Crowley is kissing him. His lips taste like salt but his mouth feels like love and both make Aziraphale’s chest ache. He mumbles against Aziraphale’s mouth as they kiss. “Love you. So much.<em> So</em> much.” They grasp desperately for one another as Crowley continues to whisper, his words ghosting out of his own mouth and into Aziraphale’s. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you.” Two broad palms come to rest on Crowley’s low back. Pull him close at their hips and their chests. A set of callused narrow fingers thread into downy curls. Hold on tight as Aziraphale pulls his lips away.</p>
<p>“You’re sure? You’re sure you’re ok?”</p>
<p>Crowley shakes his head. “No. But I’m sure about you.” Aziraphale smiles softly and kisses him again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, back to our regularly scheduled smut! </p><p>The boys visit <i>Gomorrah</i>! This is a request from <b>Marsch00</b> for the boys to visit a sex club to play around with their newfound exhibitionism kink. Also dropping a little gift for <b>emmaatkinson</b> in this one. You'll know it when you get to it ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can’t believe you’re wearing that.”</p><p>Crowley frowns and looks down. Runs his hands over his chest and down his thighs. “You picked it out for me.”</p><p>Aziraphale blushes. “Yes, but… I didn’t expect you to wear it <em>out</em>.”</p><p>Crowley stares. Crosses his arms over his chest and purses his lips. “Angel you made me walk home in it. With cum running down my leg.”</p><p>“I…” he sputters. “I got a little caught up in the moment is all. And I didn’t <em>make</em> you do anything.”</p><p>“May as well have.” Aziraphale pouts in response and Crowley laughs. “No way. You’re not wiggling out of the blame with that little trembling lip.” He juts his hip and raises a brow. “You’d better put it away or else it’s going to get bitten.”</p><p>Aziraphale only exaggerates his pout. Leans forward until Crowley laughs and drapes his arms over his shoulders, pulls him close and nips playfully at him. He feels two soft hands cup his behind and tug their hips flush against one another. Fingers dipping below the hem of the tiny gingham dress and brushing over the backs of his thighs. Nails teasing at that little crease under his bum. A warm spark ignites deep in his guts and he can’t help but press closer. Kiss deeper. Aziraphale pulls back and swats Crowley playfully on one cheek. Winks. “Save it for the club darling.”  Crowley gapes as Aziraphale sashays across their flat, holds open the door and moves aside for Crowley to step over the threshold first.   </p><p>He glowers as he crosses in front of Aziraphale. It earns him another sharp swat on his behind and he can’t help but giggle as Aziraphale closes the door and falls into step beside him, one arm wrapped snugly around his waist.</p><p>-</p><p>As the cab pulls up outside the club Aziraphale chews at his lip. Squeezes Crowley’s hand. “Everything ok?”</p><p>He nods. “Just never done anything like this. A little nervous.”</p><p>Crowley smiles. “We don’t have to do anything, Angel.”</p><p>“I said I was nervous. Not that I was having second thoughts.” Crowley laughs and climbs out of the cab, sure to let that little gingham dress ride up enough for Aziraphale to see just how little there <em>is</em> to see of his pants. Aziraphale, slack-jawed, scrambles after him and into <em>Gomorrah</em>.</p><p>Inside it is dimly lit. They sign the requisite waivers and head to the bar for a little liquid courage. They’ve chosen a Thursday evening for their visit hoping it will be a little quieter than a Friday or a Saturday. And maybe it is, but the bar is still teeming with men. Young, old, fat, thin. Beards and moustaches and man buns and bald heads. All manner of attire from full leather to birthday suits. Crowley takes Aziraphale by the hand and it is as if the crowds split for him. Before Aziraphale knows it, they have cocktails in hand and Crowley is dragging him to a table that seems to have miraculously opened up for them.</p><p>“Feeling ok, Angel?”</p><p>Aziraphale glances around the club. “I thought there was supposed to be… you know. Sex.”</p><p>Crowley laughs. “The play area is back there.” He gestures toward a doorway lit with a red glow.</p><p>“Oh. So what is this then?”</p><p>He laughs again. “A bar? You know. A place to chat. Have a drink.”</p><p>“When do we go back there?”</p><p>Crowley grins. “Whenever you want, love.”</p><p>Aziraphale smiles. Sips at his cocktail. “You look very nice tonight. Gorgeous. I can’t keep my eyes off of you.”</p><p>Crowley glances down at his drink. It is too dark to see his blush, but Aziraphale knows it is there. Creeping over his throat and down his chest. He bites his lip and flicks his gaze back up to Aziraphale’s face. “Not fair.” He turns over his shoulder toward a small dance floor. Nods toward it and raises a brow. “Eh?” Aziraphale grins and knocks back the rest of his drink. He never can resist the opportunity to dance with Crowley.</p><p>The song is trendy and the bass is heavy and Crowley can feel every inch of Aziraphale as they grind against one another. His dress rides up as he presses firmly against Aziraphale’s thigh and Aziraphale certainly doesn’t miss it. His hands are there immediately. Grabbing at him and encouraging the thin little cotton dress up higher. Crowley’s hands aren’t behaving much better. As soon as they hit the dance floor he’d grabbed two handfuls of Aziraphale’s ass and hadn’t let go. There are eyes on them. They certainly aren’t everyone’s flavor, but they’re checking enough boxes for enough people. Crowley knows it. Aziraphale knows it. They only last three songs before Aziraphale is whispering in Crowley’s ear and dragging him toward that scarlet glow.   </p><p>The play area is far nicer than Aziraphale imagined. He was picturing too much plastic and pleather and cheap mattresses with questionable stains. Instead, he finds a multitude of rooms and group spaces that are sparkling clean. Soft cushions and plush beds and a staff member manning a cart overflowing with clean linens and disinfectant sprays and hand sanitizer. There are little bowls of condoms and lube and silicone handcuffs. They wander, peeking into the rooms to see all manner of debauchery.</p><p>Crowley looks over his shoulder and notices a couple of people have followed them from the dance floor. He drags Aziraphale into a room with a plush couch and sinks down into the cushions. Pats the seat next to him. Across from them is window that separates this room from the next. Crowley glances at the handful of patrons on the other side of the glass and has to do a double take. “Angel! The waiter!” Aziraphale tries to scan the faces discreetly. “They aren’t hiding, Aziraphale. Just look. He’s right there!”</p><p>Crowley smiles and waves and Aziraphale chokes. “Crowley!”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You can’t just wave at him!”</p><p>“Why not? I can jerk you off in front of him but I can’t say hi?”</p><p>Aziraphale flops onto the couch and brings his palm to his face. “You’re insufferable.”</p><p>“He’s so smitten with you Angel.” He flops a leg over Aziraphale’s. “I bet he nearly came in his pants when he saw you walk through the door.” Aziraphale groans but he laughs behind his hand. Crowley shoots the waiter a look that is supposed to say <em>Look don’t touch, buddy</em>, but mostly comes off as slightly constipated. He turns back to Aziraphale and peels his hand off of his face. “Still ok?” Aziraphale’s cheeks are pink but he is laughing. He threads his fingers into the hair on the back of Crowley’s head and brings him in for a kiss. His tongue plays along Crowley’s lips and dips between them as soon as they part. He sighs through his nose as Crowley sucks on it gently and teases with his own. Crowley’s belly flutters. He feels like it is that first time all over again. Drunk and out of his mind infatuated in Aziraphale’s kitchen. Plunging right over the edge into love and completely unaware of it.</p><p>He’s nearly forgotten about the little audience mingling on the other side of the glass as his hand lands on Aziraphale’s thigh and runs up to the soft bulge there. Aziraphale spreads his legs. Drops his hand to Crowley’s knee that is resting on top of his own. As Crowley moves for his fly Aziraphale tugs Crowley up onto his lap. His boots dig into the sofa and his dress rides up on his hips. Crowley peeks over his shoulder. “They aren’t going to be able to see much like this.”</p><p>Aziraphale shrugs. “It isn’t about them, is it? Plus…” He sneaks his hands around and squeezes Crowley’s now mostly exposed backside. “Isn’t that the best view in the house?” Crowley only smiles and pulls him out of his trousers. Tears open one of the sample sized lube packets and squeezes it into his hand. Aziraphale watches over Crowley’s shoulder for a moment. Just long enough to know there are still a handful of voyeurs on the other side. Some only sneaking shy glances while sipping their drinks. Other hardly paying them any mind. One or two, the waiter included, watching intently. Aziraphale groans quietly as Crowley strokes him slowly. “I want…” Crowley stills his hand and watches as Aziraphale pushes the hem of his dress up a few inches then rubs him through the lace panties he’s wearing. “I didn’t know you had these.”</p><p>Crowley returns to pumping him slowly. “I bought them for tonight. A surprise. I thought you’d like them.”</p><p>He tugs them to the side and takes Crowley’s cock in hand. “I do. Very much.” He gathers some of the lube from Crowley’s hand and strokes him firmly. “And later. When we get home. I want you to wear them while I fuck you.” Crowley buckles soflty in the middle as Aziraphale twists his wrist. “I do hope they weren’t expensive though.” Crowley lifts his eyes to Aziraphale’s in question. “I’m certain that they’ll be ruined.”</p><p>“Fucking hell, Angel. The mouth on you.”</p><p>Aziraphale smirks. “Yes, I’ll use that too.” They’re both smiling as they kiss again. They cling to one another with their free hands. Aziraphale gripping Crowley firmly around the thigh and Crowley with his fingers tangled up in the curls that they know so well.</p><p>Crowley scoots forward until they touch. Tightens his fingers in Aziraphale's hair as he wraps his hand around both of them. Best that he can at least, what with Aziraphale's girth. Aziraphale follows suit. Grasps them from the other side so that their fingertips and palms overlap. Crowley leans his mouth close to Aziraphale’s. "Are you going to come all over my pretty dress? Make a mess of me in front of everyone?"</p><p>Aziraphale’s head drops forward and he grins. "Oh fuck <em>me</em>, Crowley..."</p><p>Crowley leans in and kisses him on the forehead. "We agreed we'd keep that in the bedroom, dear."</p><p>He laughs and grips his thigh tighter. Fingers dimpling the pale skin. "Shut up and kiss me."</p><p>Crowley is obedient. Leans in and kisses him hard. Really puts on a show for the people mingling on the other side of the glass. Rolls his hips forward so their cocks slide against one another. Aziraphale squeezes them harder. Pumps his fist faster as Crowley drops his lips and teeth to his throat. Gives him a view of their audience. Having all of those eyes on them makes him throb. He slides his hand up Crowley’s thigh to tease him from below. Fingertip circling that tight ring, but not dipping inside.</p><p>The featherlight touch makes Crowley’s legs shake. His voice trembles nearly as badly. "Fuck, baby." Aziraphale’s eyes close as his orgasm begins to take shape. That clenching, shimmering smolder deep in his belly. Crowley can see it. Can feel it. Can hear it in the way his breathing changes. “Come for me, baby. Let go.” His hand trembles and Crowley takes over. Guides them both. Rocks his hips for extra friction. Tightens his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair the way he knows he likes it. Fights to keep his own orgasm at bay until Aziraphale’s mouth is dropping open and his brows are climbing high and he is leaving sticky stripes all over that black and white gingham. Crowley follows. Legs trembling as they always do. Mouth falling forward to catch Aziraphale’s. Panting and groaning into him more than actually kissing.</p><p>Crowley is still shaking and twitching when they both hear a muffled thunk. They turn to find the waiter’s palm on the glass. Head cast downward. Shoulders heaving. Crowley whips back to Aziraphale. “Did he just…?”</p><p>Aziraphale snorts. His cheeks go crimson. “I think so.” Crowley giggles so hard that he has to brace himself on Aziraphale’s shoulders. Aziraphale laughs with him. “Let’s get out of here… <em>baby</em>.”</p><p>Crowley blushes. “You don’t like it?”</p><p>“No, no. I didn’t say that. I’ll get used to it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have requests on my list still from emmaatkinson, omensfan, and ashfae, and I promise I'm getting to you all soon! If you made a request and you aren't on this list and I haven't written it yet, please comment and let me know so that I don't miss you. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, ok. So there was some interest in the waiter's point of view and in a threesome and I had a little spark and had to write this. This is pretty far removed from the usual here. The writing style is pretty different. I hope that you have fun with it anyway. </p><p>Full disclosure I wrote and edited this in record time, so apologies for any glaring typos!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Six months ago Mr. Fell started coming to the Ritz with a handsome new beau. I was jealous at first. I’ll admit it. For a year it had just been him. Fluffy little curls and a sweet smile. Always so kind to every waiter and host and bus boy. Always sure to send his compliments to the chef. It was his kindness really, that sparked my little crush. But then I noticed the softness in his eyes and the fullness of his lips and (I promise, I wasn’t trying to leer) that shapely bum as he leaned out to hail a cab. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he came in with that stone cold fox on his arm. That perfectly tousled coif and too tight trousers and eyes only for Mr. Fell. He’s handsome. There’s no denying it. And cocky in that way that makes you kind of want him. But he couldn’t hold a candle to Mr. Fell.</p><p>So yes. I was a little jealous. I may have let his food get a little cold a time or two before setting it down in front of him. Poured his wine a little sloppy. “Forgot” to refill his water. Funny thing is, he didn’t even seem to notice. He spent more time staring at Mr. Fell than actually eating. All shy smiles and puppy dog eyes and flushed cheeks. And it was all so fucking <em>adorable</em> that I couldn’t dislike him. Even though I wanted to. All of a sudden, after shifts when they would come in for lunch or dinner, I found myself jerking it to the thought of <em>both</em> of them. I wasn’t thinking about Mr. Fell filling me up. I was thinking of being the pig in the spit roast. The beam in that Eiffel tower. The kitty in the middle.</p><p>So imagine my delight when one night, out of the corner of my eye, I could have <em>swore</em> that I saw Mr. Fell dip under the table. I was across the dining room. I didn’t have a clear view of them, so I couldn’t be sure. But there really wasn’t any question what was afoot when I took their dessert order. Mr. Crowley was all alone, but boy did he look flustered. I’ve never seen his face so pink. I was honestly impressed that he managed to not only make a selection, but also ordered a bottle of wine. Without even looking at the wine menu! Sure, it wasn’t the most sophisticated pairing, but really, who could blame him. Honestly, I don’t even know if I ended up bringing the right bottle to the table, I was so distracted. All that I could imagine was what was going on down there. And then I had to go and let on that I knew when I poured a glass for Mr. Crowley. How embarrassing. I thought for sure I’d never see them again.</p><p>But that wasn’t the case at all. They came back. And, as always, I bribed the hostess to sit them with me. I made excuses, but she totally knows I have a crush. I just about lost my goddamn mind when I went to greet them and they were basically full on snogging. I could have watched them all day. And then Mr. Fell just had to look up at me with that marshmallow soft smile and kind voice and I knew I was blushing. Made only worse by my big fucking mouth. Sputtering about the app for a <em>remotely controlled vibrating butt plug </em>and then basically telling him that I wanted to watch him get off. I thought for sure they’d be out the door in half a second. But then, no lie, I turn around and Mr. Crowley is just about devouring Mr. Fell. They <em>like</em> that I know. They <em>like</em> that I’m watching. All I could think was: <em>Holy fuck. Is this really happening?</em></p><p>If I hadn’t been in the middle of my shift I would have bellied up to the table opposite and taken myself in hand right there. My God I’m glad I was working though. To pour them wine while Mr. Crowley teased and Mr. Fell could hardly maintain his composure? Telling me that that vibrator felt good? Fuck. I was pretty sure I had died and gone to heaven. And then I got to watch Mr. Fell’s face while he came. And I wasn’t expecting to also enjoy watching Mr. Crowley’s face so much too. He looked like he was about to come untouched just watching him. Lord help me. After that I really did have to fuck off to the toilet and have a quick wank.</p><p>I couldn’t help myself. At the end of their meal I left a little note inviting them to <em>Gomorrah</em>. It seemed a little less presumptuous than asking if they’d run a train on me. I couldn’t believe it when they actually showed up. I spotted them immediately. Watched them from the bar. I just couldn’t quite work up the courage to approach them. When they left the dance floor and headed for the play area I followed. I was hard already just thinking about the possibilities. Mr. Fell in his smart slacks and button-down shirt and Mr. Crowley in that ridiculous dress and stompy boots. I liked Mr. Crowley even more when he smiled and waved, even if Mr. Fell was a little embarrassed. I mean, they were there to play in front of strangers. And I had invited them. But it was nice to feel welcome to watch. Like they wanted me there. Their position made it a little difficult to see things but Oh. My. God. I caught a glimpse of both of them. And holy shit. Mr. Fell is <em>hung</em>. I sure hope Mr. Crowley is a top, because that monster would surely split him right in two.</p><p>I was really hoping to watch them fuck. Like <em>really</em> fuck. Like get a glimpse of what it would be like to be a fly on the wall of their bedroom. See their bodies and their kinks and hear them shouting as they came. I guess that’s a little much to ask for first timers though. I was still satisfied watching them. Clearly… In my defense, I wasn’t the only one touching myself in that room. They just have this chemistry. They’re just so fucking <em>hot</em> together. Like they know exactly how to drive each other crazy. Like they’ve been together for centuries and know precisely how to touch one another. And watching them smile and laugh while in the heat of things? I hope I can have something like that one day. So yeah. Maybe I made a mess of my trousers. But like I said. I certainly wasn’t the only one.</p><p>So all of this to say, I nearly had a stroke when I found myself gazing at them through the glass at <em>Gomorrah</em> again not a fortnight later and Mr. Crowley turned to me and crooked his finger to join them. I had to take a look around. Make sure he actually meant me. My legs were shaking by the time I was standing in front of them. This time they were in a cozy little room with a bed in the center. They were sat side by side on the edge. Mr. Fell’s shirt was unbuttoned and I couldn’t help but stare at his body. At his soft curves and thick chest hair. Oh what I wouldn’t give to get my mouth and my hands all over him. I was prepared for Mr. Crowley to tell me to bugger off. That I was a little too interested.</p><p>Intsead he kept rubbing at Mr. Fell through his trousers and tilted his head and smiled up at me and said, “Would you like to suck his cock?”</p><p>My heart started racing. Was this real? Was he just messing with me? My cheeks were surely scarlet. Mr. Fell looked up at me with a shy smile and I nodded. Maybe a little too enthusiastically. Mr. Crowley grinned at me, then at Mr. Fell and gestured for me to kneel. I don’t think I’ve ever moved faster. I think I have bruises from how quick my knees hit the floor. Mr. Crowley got Mr. Fell’s trousers undone and gave me a little encouragement to grab the waistband and pull them over those luscious thighs all the way to his ankles. I could only stare. Holy shit. I had only gotten a glance at the monster before and now that it was staring me straight in the eye, I have to admit I was a little intimidated.</p><p>Mr. Crowley took him in hand and started stroking him. He smirked at me. “Think you can handle it?”</p><p><em>Absolutely not</em>. “S-sure. No problem.”</p><p>He leaned over and took Mr. Fell’s cheek in his palm and grinned at him. “All good, Angel?” He smiled at both of us and nodded and Mr. Crowley turned back to me and gestured for me to continue. He tasted musky and sweet and he stretched my lips obscenely. Just feeling him on my tongue made me throb. When I looked up Mr. Crowley was leaning in and kissing him. His fingers trailing over his chest to tease at a nipple. Rubbing and squeezing gently. It made his cock twitch in my mouth and I couldn’t help but groan around him. I closed my eyes for a moment and enjoyed the feeling and the taste of his prick. Bobbed my head slowly. I wanted to draw things out. Make it last. I sensed bit of movement and opened my eyes to find Mr. Fell drawing Mr. Crowley out of his trousers. Dark denim today instead of a dress. Mr. Crowley wiggled his hips and pulled the jeans down to his knees as Mr. Fell leaned down and took him into his mouth, lifting one foot onto the bed so I could stay where I was on the floor and still keep sucking him.</p><p>Mr. Crowley reached out and brushed my hair off my forehead. His voice was low and thick. “Just like that. Suck his cock. Mmm.” My jaw was aching but I couldn’t get enough. And I couldn’t tear my eyes off of them either. Mr. Fell taking that cock so deep in his throat and Mr. Crowley with his head dropping forward and back and his fingers wrapped tight with soft blond ringlets. I kept one hand pumping what of Mr. Fell I couldn’t possibly fit into my mouth and fumbled myself out of my own trousers with the other. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mr. Crowley thrusting up into Mr. Fell’s mouth and I had to squeeze myself to keep from coming. I guess I got a little excited. Worked my mouth a little more than I meant to. Because before I knew it Mr. Fell’s legs were trembling and his belly fluttered and he pulled his mouth off of Mr. Crowley to warn me. So considerate.</p><p>“I’m gonna come…” Mr. Crowley wrenched his head up and kissed him hard as he filled my mouth and throat with his spend. No way I wasn’t going to swallow him down. I kept working him as he white knuckled Mr. Crowley’s collar and groaned into his mouth. I worked him until at last he threaded those perfectly manicured fingers into my hair and pulled me off of him. He panted and gestured at Mr. Crowley. “Now him. I want to watch.”</p><p>I looked to Mr. Crowley and he shrugged and I scooted over between his knees and took him into my mouth too. Pumped my fist around myself as he slid over my tongue and hit the back of my throat. Mr. Fell reached out and let his fingers brush over my lips. Wrapped his palm under my chin and urged me to suck him faster. Harder. It was all I could do not to come first as Mr. Fell grabbed a handful of Mr. Crowley’s hair with the other hand and yanked his head back to bite his throat. And apparently there was nothing at all Mr. Crowley could do, because his hands fumbled to my hair in a silent warning just before he was filling me up too. He was cursing at the ceiling and shaking apart and Mr. Fell was still sucking a bruise onto the juncture of his neck and shoulder and finally I couldn’t hold back anymore.</p><p>I came all over my own belly. Hot stripes soaking through my clothes and warming the skin underneath. Gasping around… nothing. I open my eyes and groan. <em>Fuck</em>. I’m 25 years old. Aren’t I a little old for wet dreams?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also, I'm so sorry to everyone that wanted a <i>real</i> threesome, but I just couldn't see these characters doing so! They are too head over heels for one another. This felt like a fun compromise. And I love a little sneaky snake twist.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had no intention to write this today, but then it just kind of spilled out of me... </p>
<p>Requests by <b>Ashfae</b> for a little wedding build up (we'll get to real wedding stuff eventually!) and <b>Omensfan</b> for an argument (and the making up part). </p>
<p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I don’t know what you want me to say, Angel!”</p>
<p>“I want you to say sorry!”</p>
<p>“Sorry? Aziraphale I didn’t <em>do</em> anything.”</p>
<p>“Exactly! You didn’t do anything. You haven’t done anything to help.”</p>
<p>“That’s because every time I try you won’t let me!”</p>
<p>“That is not true!”</p>
<p>“It is! Just last week I tried to show you the flower arrangements that I liked, and you just steamrolled right over me. Went behind my back and started talking to a completely different florist.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t like that…”</p>
<p>“Angel, plants are my thing. You promised I could take the lead there. And I like my plant girl. I don’t want to go with your guy. And don’t even get me started on the wine. I had a great deal and then you go and change the menu last minute so none of the pairings work. And, I’d like to point out, you didn’t even consult me about the menu change.”</p>
<p>“I hardly changed the menu. I tweaked it. Barely.”</p>
<p>“Still!”</p>
<p>“Still, that is flowers and wine. What else? I’ve been up to my eyeballs in wedding planning and you hardly even look up from your phone when I ask you your opinion on things. It just makes me feel like you don’t care. Like you… like you aren’t as invested in this as I am.”</p>
<p>Crowley’s face drops. “You’re kidding me, right? I’m not invested? I don’t care? Do you really think that?!” Aziraphale drops his gaze to the fifth cake test batch he’s made this morning and shrugs. “Angel! That is ridiculous and you know it! I… I can’t do this right now. Look. I love you, but I have to go. I need air.” He jams his phone into his pocket and stomps out the door but doesn’t slam it. He lets it close quietly behind him and stands on the landing in front of their flat for a moment clenching and unclenching his fists.</p>
<p>It isn’t that he doesn’t care. Or that he isn’t invested. Quite the opposite actually. He is so ready to be married to Aziraphale that it doesn’t matter if they do it in London or the South Downs or on the Moon. Or if they are in suits or potato sacks. It doesn’t matter who is there to watch or what they drink or who takes the photos. They could seal the deal in a dirty alley by farting on one another for all he cares. He’s so invested that it scares him sometimes. It makes him worry that he’ll get too intense. That Aziraphale will get tired of his clinginess and call the whole thing off. So yeah.. maybe he’s been a little less than helpful. But it is true what he said. Aziraphale hardly lets him get his hands on anything anyway. And so it had blown up this morning. Aziraphale had made him taste <em>another</em> cake and sure, he’d maybe been less than enthusiastic about the whole thing. And maybe he’d been focused more on Instagram than on what Aziraphale was saying. But Aziraphale had definitely overreacted. He’d proper blown up on him.</p>
<p>He plops down onto the stairs and puts his face in his hands with a heavy sigh.</p>
<p>Aziraphale watches the door close with a trembling lip. Twenty. Twenty different combinations of cake and filling and frosting and not a single one seemed to spark any interest in Crowley. He’d planned for weeks. Hunted down recipes and researched decoration techniques and scoured all of the blogs and Crowley could hardly care less. Meringue and homemade preserves and candied hazelnut spikes and Bavarian cream. Flavors and techniques borrowed from tres leches cake and tarta de Santiago and m’hencha and mawa and baklava. And nothing. Nada. Zilch. It was the same line every time. “Tastes delicious, Angel.” And so maybe he had lost his temper a bit. But it hurt. To put so much time and effort and care in and get so little in return. And he just wants to get it <em>right</em>. To give Crowley a day that he’ll never forget. To show him how much he loves him. He wants so badly to give Crowley something perfect. Something that can almost capture his love for him. And he worries that he’s going to mess it all up. That the weather will turn and the tent will blow away and the cake will collapse and Crowley will be disappointed in him.</p>
<p>And so maybe he had been a little intense about everything. Had been a bit of a control freak. And yeah, he’d checked in with another florist. But it wasn’t what Crowley thought. It wasn’t even about the wedding. Not really anyway. He’d been in touch with the florist about acquiring a beautiful variegated monstera for Crowley’s collection. One he had been coveting for some time. It was a wedding gift. Crowley wasn’t even supposed to know, but he’d seen an email from the florist and jumped to conclusions. The menu thing was true enough. But it was an honest mistake. He hadn’t even been thinking about the wine. He’d made a tweak here or there that he just knew Crowley would love and… ok. So maybe he should have apologized for that one.</p>
<p>He sets the mixing bowl down on the counter and scrubs at his face. “Fuck.” He stares at the door for a moment before pulling his apron off over his head and hurrying toward it. He yanks it open and jumps. “Darling!” Crowley is standing on the other side. Hand reaching for the knob. Hair askew where he’s been running his hands through it.</p>
<p>They speak in unison. “I’m sorry…” They both smile shyly and Crowley steps forward and take’s Aziraphale’s hand in his.</p>
<p>“Black forest cake. With those gorgeous chocolate shards all over the base and those beautiful cherries and the Kirsche cream. It was stunning. And it tasted divine. And I’ll work on the seating arrangement and coordinate with the photographer and call the tailor about our suits. And I’ll pick out new wine. Your menu changes were perfect. They were exactly right, Angel.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale takes his other hand and steps closer. “I shouldn’t be so overbearing. I love your florist and I know the flowers will be perfect. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t talk to you about the menu changes. I should have asked you about it. And I should have thought about all the time you spent on the pairings. And I know that you care. I do. Truly. My feelings were hurt and I shouldn’t have implied that you didn’t.”</p>
<p>Crowley steps into their flat the rest of the way and wraps his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders. Kisses him on the forehead. “I know. I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings. I promise I’ll put down my phone next time and listen better.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale leans into him and closes his eyes. Whispers against his chest. “I just wanted to make you the perfect cake.”</p>
<p> “You did. Twenty times. It was perfect every time.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale chuckles. “And the black forest cake?”</p>
<p>Crowley smiles. “The black forest cake is just <em>us</em>. Dark and sharp and sour and light and bright and sweet. It just works. And it’ll match our suits.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale pulls away and gazes into those honey eyes. “Come here you.” Crowley leans forward and kisses him. Once. Twice. The third time doesn’t really have an end. It lingers as he kicks the door closed behind him with his heel and pushes Aziraphale backward until he hits the end of the couch and tumbles over backward onto it. It is only after Crowley has kicked off his boots, dropped his jacket onto the floor, crawled on top of Aziraphale and tugged the top buttons of his shirt open that the fourth kiss begins. This one lasts for nearly an eternity. It lasts through Aziraphale yanking open Crowley’s buttons all at once and pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. And through two belts being unbuckled and everything below the waist getting haphazardly pushed down over knees and off ankles. It lasts as Crowley (much more carefully) gets all of Aziraphale’s buttons through their holes and spreads his shirt wide open. It persists until at last Crowley has to yank away and scurry to their bedroom for a bottle of lube.</p>
<p>He glances at their floor to ceiling windows as he hurries back to the couch, stark naked except for his socks, but can’t find it in himself to care. He climbs back onto Aziraphale and dumps more lube than is strictly necessary onto his fingers and braces his hands on his chest as he plunges into him with two fingers. Crowley gasps as Aziraphale uses some of that extra lube in his other hand and tugs at his cock while he opens him up. Two minutes in and he is already squeezing his eyes shut and running through the function of every video editing tool that he knows to try to distract himself.</p>
<p>His nails dig into Aziraphale’s chest as he adds a third finger. Aziraphale tenses beneath him and he releases his grip. “Sorry… sorry. It’s just… Fuck that’s good.”</p>
<p>“S’fine. You’re fine.”</p>
<p>“S’good. I’m ready. It’s enough.” Crowley is already grabbing Aziraphale’s cock and lining him up before he can even withdraw his fingers. He sinks down slowly. Tilting his hips this way and that the whole time. Exploring all of the places inside himself that light up as Aziraphale stretches him wide. When he is sat completely on Aziraphale’s prick he pauses. His own cock pulses and spits over Aziraphale’s knuckles where he still strokes him slowly.</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s head lolls from side to side. His nipples are tight little buds and Crowley can’t help but finger at them as he adjusts to the feeling of being stretched so widely. Aziraphale groans. He takes Crowley’s hip in one hand and squeezes gently. “Whenever you’re ready.”</p>
<p>Crowley nods. His heart is hammering and he can feel it in every inch of his body as he begins to rock slowly forward and back. Aziraphale guides him gently with his hand but otherwise lets Crowley lead. Lays back and lets him set a slow pace that he matches with his hand. He stares up in wonder as Crowley’s brows rise and furrow and relax. Watches his mouth twitch into a smile and then drop open for a moment only for him to press his lips in and together so tightly that his mouth is just a thin line. His gaze drops down to watch his abs flex and flutter as he hits that spot over and over again.</p>
<p>Crowley’s chin drops toward his chest and his fingers begin to dig into Aziraphale’s chest again. His breathing gets ragged. Aziraphale drags him forward by the hip just a little faster. Presses up into him each time that he rocks forward until Crowley is whimpering on top of him. Aziraphale’s own breathing ramps up. Nothing gets him off faster than watching Crowley come undone. He prays that Crowley will come soon, though, because he isn’t going to last long. A moment later and Crowley’s rocking speeds up. Turns into bouncing. Harder and harder with every passing second until the sweat between their bodies is squelching.</p>
<p>“Oh, God. Crowley…”</p>
<p>Crowley’s mouth dops open and he continues to bounce as he spills over Aziraphale’s fist, head thrown back and groaning loudly. It is all that it takes to send Aziraphale spinning out of control as well. His calves flex and his knees bend and his head comes up off the couch as he comes.</p>
<p>After, Aziraphale carries a squirming, giggling Crowley across their flat and draws a hot bath. Gathers up two slices of that black forest gateau and sinks into the steamy bubbles with him. He opens up a little notebook and hands it to Crowley with a grin.</p>
<p>“You want to help. I need to let go.”</p>
<p>Crowley takes a look at the notebook and his eyes bulge. He takes a deep breath and exhales noisily. “Seating arrangements it is.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Up next will be some rough stuff for emmaatkinson and Ambra_Sue, maybe with a side of Gabriel torment for Ashfae ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one gets a little filthy...</p><p>Fulfilling a number of requests!<br/>✅ Rough, 69, and a decidedly controversial pet name ;) - <b>emmaatkinson</b><br/>✅ A little Gabriel torture - <b>Ashfae</b><br/>✅ Hair pulling - <b>Ambra_Sue</b></p><p>I've started working on another AU, so I probably won't be able to update this series quite as often as I have recently. I'm hoping to still get some short fun stuff posted once a week or so. That being said, if you have requests, I'd love to hear them! My mental energy for original smut scenarios is currently being rerouted to a couple of new adorable idiots XD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Get back here!"</p><p>"No! Absolutely not!" Crowley jumps over the kitchen island as Aziraphale comes around the far end. He scrambles off the edge and knocks a stool over in the process.</p><p>"This is getting out of hand! Just get over here and get it over with."</p><p>"No!" Aziraphale races to block Crowley from locking himself in their bedroom.</p><p>"I'm sick and tired of pulling your hair out of the drain! It's clogged every other day! Now get over here. You're getting a haircut!"</p><p>Crowley wields a wooden spoon from the kitchen. "Get those shears away from me! I like it this length!"</p><p>Aziraphale sets the scissors on the ground slowly and puts his hands up. Takes one step forward. "Ok. They're down. Let's just talk about it." Crowley eyes him suspiciously. "It's always in your face. And you aren't going to be able to fit it under your masks much longer. And we're getting married in a week and it is going to look ridiculous in all of our photos."</p><p>"I'll just pull it back. It will look fine."</p><p>Aziraphale puts his hands by his sides and takes another step forward. He sighs. "Fine. Have it your way." Crowley's shoulders loosen just in time for Aziraphale to lunge for him. "We're cutting that fucking hair!"</p><p>Crowley screeches and sidesteps him just in time. Launches forward and out their front door. "Get back here you fiend!" He races up the stairs and bursts through the door of Aziraphale's old flat. Aziraphale isn't as quick. It takes him a minute to get across their flat and to the landing outside. He steps out and shouts out up the stairs. "You miserable old..." He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and glances down the stairs to find Gabriel staring up at him, scowling. Always scowling. Gabriel grumbles as he trudges up the stairs toward his own flat. Something about <em>decency</em> and <em>noise</em> and <em>respect</em>. Aziraphale only rolls his eyes. He glances up and finds Crowley peeking out the door at the top of the stairs, doing the same. He smiles sarcastically at Gabriel as he passes by then quirks a brow at Aziraphale and smirks. Gestures with a finger in a "come here." motion.</p><p>He tucks the scissors into his back pocket and climbs the stairs slowly. "Giving in, are we?"</p><p>Crowley laughs. "A temporary cease fire."</p><p>"Is that so?" Aziraphale reaches the top of the stairs and Crowley slides his arms around his waist.</p><p>"It <em>is</em> so."</p><p>Aziraphale skates his hands over Crowley's chest as the door slams above them. While Crowley is glancing in the direction of the ceiling he strikes. Grabs a fistful of his hair and whips the scissors out of his pocket. "A truce only works if both sides have agreed to it."  Crowley huffs in irritation but the sound creeping out of his mouth changes key as Aziraphale tightens his grip and pulls gently. Aziraphale smirks as Crowley's fingers tighten in the back of his shirt. "So convince me. Why should I lay down my arms?"</p><p>Crowley grins. "Because it would be way more fun to be noisy disrespectful neighbors than to cut my hair."</p><p>Aziraphale steps over the threshold, pushing Crowley back into the flat. It is empty this week. Their last guest had just signed a new lease a few days ago and had moved out, and they didn't yet have anyone else lined up that needed a place to stay. The door creaks closed behind them and Aziraphale uses his heel to slam it the last foot. It rattles the walls. "Noisy like that?"</p><p>Crowley grins. "Not a bad start. But I think we can get more creative."  He throws his head back and shouts at the ceiling. "FUCK! Yes! Just like that!"</p><p>Aziraphale laughs out loud. His grip leaves Crowley's hair and he gives it a try too. "Don't stop! Harder!" They giggle like school children. Crowley takes Aziraphale's hand and drags him to the bedroom. Jumps onto the bed and starts rocking the headboard against the wall. Aziraphale collapses onto the bed still laughing. "This is absurd."</p><p>Crowley flops over on top of him with a mischievous glint to his eye. "You're right. Why don't you, ah. Pull my hair a little more and make me shout for real?"</p><p>Aziraphale's fingers crawl up into his hair again and begin to squeeze. "Do you still have that wooden spoon?" Crowley bites his lip and pulls the spoon out of where he's tucked it into a belt loop at his low back. Aziraphale snatches it and sits up, sending Crowley rolling off onto the bed. He swings his legs around so that his feet rest on the ground and, with a pleased look on his face, pats his lap.</p><p>Crowley groans. "Fuck. Yes." With quick fingers he gets his trousers undone and shimmies his jeans and briefs down to mid-thigh then practically throws himself across Aziraphale's lap. "Make me scream, baby. Make sure he can hear it."</p><p>Aziraphale chuckles. He's gotten better at this since that first time. More confident. He knows how hard to spank him. He knows the things to say that will make Crowley grind his hips down into his lap and leave him dripping. He knows exactly the noises he'll make when he grabs his hair. And he does. That same guttural animal sound burbles up his throat and past his lips as Aziraphale twists those red locks, now halfway down to his shoulders, around his fist. Although the volume may be a tad exaggerated this time around.</p><p>He whacks him twice with the spoon, once on each cheek, and Crowley screeches and laughs in quick succession.</p><p>"Come on, you can do better than that!" Aziraphale chuckles. He knows Crowley is being purposefully antagonistic. He yanks his head back by the hair hard enough that Crowley has to quickly get his palms under his shoulders to support himself as his chest comes up off the bed. "Oh fuck..."  Aziraphale spanks him hard, right in the center of his ass and he shouts, but he's still smiling. His words squeak out between gritted teeth. "Yesss. Just like that."</p><p>He runs the rough surface of the spoon in circles over his chapped skin before bringing it down again, drawing another screeching yelp from him.</p><p>"When I get done with you, you're going to be a good boy and show me how much of my cock you can fit in your mouth."</p><p>"Angel!" Crowley is giggling but Aziraphale can feel a damp spot seeping through his trousers.</p><p>"Oh, but you take it so well. And you look so pretty while you do."</p><p>Crowley's head is still wrenched back by the hair. Aziraphale can see his pulse hammering in his throat where it strains backward. His giggles fade and he whimpers. "Tell me... Tell me again..."</p><p>Aziraphale's pulls him all the way upright so he's kneeling by his side and brings the spoon in a quick arc against his skin again, making his cock bounce on the other side. He kisses him once on the jaw and lowers his voice. "You look so pretty with your mouth full. Absolutely gorgeous. Those perfect lips. Stretched so wide. Do you want it? Do you want to look pretty for me?"</p><p>He nods quickly and as soon as Aziraphale releases his hair he pulls his shirt over his head and reaches for Aziraphale's belt. "I want you to fuck my mouth. Like <em>really</em>..."</p><p>The corner of Aziraphale’s mouth tilts up. "Are you sure..."</p><p>"I… I..." He curses as he yanks Aziraphale's trousers down over his hips. "I'll pinch your thigh if it's too much. Don’t hold back."</p><p>"How did you want...” Crowley throws himself onto his back and hangs his head off the end of the bed, mouth already hanging open. He reaches out for Aziraphale. “Ooook. That’s how."</p><p>"Put your knee here." He pats the mattress next to his face. "For leverage."</p><p>Aziraphale chuckles, "Crowley...."</p><p>"I’m serious!"</p><p>"Ok, ok!" He takes himself in hand and guides himself into Crowley's waiting mouth. Braces his knee on the bed next to his jaw and his palm near Crowley's hip. Crowley is moaning under him already as he begins to thrust slowly and shallowly into his mouth. He takes his ass with both hands and urges him to go faster. He moves at Crowley’s speed but holds back. They’ve never done it quite like this before. Sure, he’s had a hard time keeping still from time to time. But he’s never <em>fucked</em> Crowley’s mouth. He rocks shallowly and Crowley whines. Wriggles. Grips him harder. He’s frustrated, Aziraphale can tell. He pulls out and Crowley scoffs.</p><p>“Harder. I can handle it.” He opens his mouth for a moment then hesitates and speaks again. “And… keep talking to me.”</p><p>He pulls Aziraphale’s hips forward again and Aziraphale presses in a bit deeper. Groans as his cock drags against Crowley’s tongue. “You’re… doing so well. Taking me so deep.” He thrusts a little deeper. Crowley works his tongue against him as he pulls out and thrusts back into his mouth. A little harder. “Just like that, darling. So good. Such a pretty boy.” Crowley’s fingers dig into his hips and he pulls him deeper yet. Holds him in place as he hits the back of his throat. Aziraphale trembles over him. It does feel incredible. That bit of squeeze as he tries to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth. That extra heat. Crowley’s fingers dig a little deeper and he sputters around Aziraphale’s cock. Aziraphale yanks back. “Was that a pinch? Are you ok? I’m sorry!”</p><p>Crowley gasps for air. “Do it again!” Aziraphale chews at his lip and Crowley rolls his eyes. “Give me the fucking spoon. I’ll drop it if I want you to stop or I’m about to pass out or something.”</p><p>Aziraphale stares in stunned silence for a moment before he finds his voice. “Could you not breathe?! Are you sure…”</p><p>“Shut up and put your cock back in my mouth. And tell me I’m pretty while you do it.” Aziraphale hesitates but his belly flutters at Crowley’s demands. He snatches up the spoon and hands it to Crowley before pressing back into him. Crowley arches backward to take more of him into his mouth and Aziraphale reaches down to stroke his throat. Runs his fingers along the muscles straining against the skin.</p><p>“Gorgeous. So gorgeous like this.” He thrusts in a bit and Crowley groans. His feet scramble against the sheets as he tries to press himself further onto Aziraphale’s cock. He pushes to the back of Crowley’s throat again. “You’re swallowing up so much of me. God…” He feels that same sputter and holds himself in place. “So hungry for my cock.” Crowley’s back arches off the mattress for a moment before he pushes Aziraphale’s hips back to breathe. As he pants and drools Aziraphale leans forward and takes Crowley into his mouth. His trousers are still only pushed down to mid-thigh and for some reason it makes it all the sexier to Aziraphale. That he couldn’t be bothered to get undressed all the way. That he was too desperate for Aziraphale’s cock. He runs his tongue around Crowley’s prick and squeezes his lips tightly around the swollen tip. Bobs his head as he thrusts slowly into Crowley’s mouth.</p><p>From time to time he can hear Crowley cough and choke underneath him, but he keeps an iron grip on the spoon. And on his backside. Aziraphale can tell he’s enjoying himself. He’s even thrusting up into <em>his</em> mouth a bit. Not as hard as Aziraphale is taking his, but he can understand the appeal, being on the receiving end. Without warning Crowley grabs Aziraphale by the hair and yanks his head up and off of his cock. Stills his own mouth. Aziraphale freezes. Crowley doesn’t want to come. Not yet. But Aziraphale can’t help but tease. “You suck my cock so good. Like your mouth was made for me. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” The spoon clatters to the ground and Aziraphale yanks his hips back.</p><p>Crowley is panting, his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck.” He groans and grits his teeth. Takes several deep breaths. When he finally blinks his eyes open Aziraphale is sitting next to him grinning. Waggling a stubby little translucent bottle in the air.</p><p>“Found this in the bedside table. If you’re interested.” Crowley doesn’t respond. He only presses himself up, faces the head of the bed on hands and knees and looks over his shoulder with heavy eyes and pupils like two black holes.</p><p>Aziraphale slicks himself and cozies up behind him. He fingers him slowly and carefully. Leans forward to bite at his shoulder. “You’re so sexy today. But I think we forgot ourselves a little.” He thrusts his fingers in hard and Crowley yells then laughs. “Hard to scream when your mouth is full.”</p><p>“Mmm. Let’s be <em>indecent</em> baby.” Aziraphale removes his fingers and eases slowly into him. Pausing every few minutes to let Crowley adjust. Only continuing to move when Crowley presses back against him. When he’s seated fully inside of him he stills his hips and strokes his low back. Lets his fingers wander down to tease where he’s stretched tight around him. Groans at the sight in a way that makes Crowley’s cock jump.</p><p>Crowley eases away and presses back and Aziraphale takes the hint. Moves slowly in and out of him for a few minutes. He reaches out for Crowley’s hair again. Holds on tight as he snaps his hips forward. Crowley yelps and braces one hand on the headboard as he does it again. Each thrust knocking it against the wall loudly. Crowley doesn’t hold back. He wails and shouts and curses as Aziraphale begins to pound into him. All manner of indecent filth spilling out of his mouth at an unprecedented volume. The whole building must be able to hear them.</p><p>“Fuck, Crowley. You’re so good. So fucking hot. Oh… oh god. Oh fuck!” His orgasm bursts to life without warning. In one moment he feels those first white hot tendrils curling up inside of him and in the next he is overflowing with pleasure. He spills inside of Crowley, earning another slew of curses and groans from him. He pulls out quickly and leans down. Get his mouth and one hand on Crowley’s loose fluttering hole and the other on his cock. Dives into him with his tongue and two fingers at the same time as he jerks at his leaking prick.</p><p>“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Crowley punctuates each curse by slamming the headboard against the wall with the palm still firmly planted there. His thighs begin to shake and Aziraphale fucks into him with his tongue and his fingers faster. He can taste and feel himself inside of Crowley. His fingers squelch with his own cum. Crowley’s knees come up off the mattress so he is balanced on just his toes and his palms still on the headboard. He hovers for a moment, body tensed and trembling and then suddenly he is crying out and spurting heavily onto the sheets and his own belly and collapsing forward onto his chest.</p><p>They end up in a sweaty, messy, shuddering heap. Aziraphale tugging Crowley up against his chest. Crowley reaching his hand back to tangle up in Aziraphale’s hair. Their legs intertwined and quivering. Crowley stares at the ceiling and pants. A smile plastered onto his face.</p><p>Aziraphale kisses and sucks on his neck and shoulder. Tastes the salty sweat that is glistening there. He moves up to his ear and nibbles on his lobe until Crowley giggles and wiggles away. “Indecent enough for you, darling?”</p><p>“And you call <em>me</em> the fiend.”</p><p>There is stomping on the floor above them and they dissolve into a fit of giggles. Aziraphale runs his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “You know. Maybe we should keep this after all…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <i>Come be my friend on twitter. I'm very lonely. @snae_b </i>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Are those wedding bells I hear?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Fuck. Anathema. I'm sweating. Why am I sweating? I'm so fucking nervous. Anathema, I'm going to pass out."</p><p>Anathema only laughs at him and straightens his tie. Brushes some lint from his shoulder.</p><p>"Why are there so many people here? We don't know that many people, surely. What if I trip? Anathema. I'm going to trip. Oh my god. Why did we decide to do this outside?  The ground is all uneven. There might be a root or or or... a hole!"</p><p>Anathema continues to ignore him as she pins his boutonniere to his lapel. Eucalyptus and a tiny spray of baby's breath. A delicate crimson cord wrapped around the base.</p><p>"Anathema. Where are my vows?" He pats his chest and thighs frantically. "Oh God... Where are my vows? I can't even remember what I wrote! This is a disaster." She reaches into his jacket and pulls the little handwritten scrap of paper out to show him then puts it back where it had been all morning with a gentle pat. <em>Right. That's where it is.</em> <em>Tucked safely against his heart</em>. He swallows.</p><p>"Where's Tracy?" He starts to run his fingers through his hair and Anathema grabs him by the wrist to stop him from mussing it. She frowns and raises a brow at him. "Right. Right. She's with Aziraphale. She's coming here though, right? She said she'd walk me out."</p><p>The door creaks open and Crowley's shoulders drop. "Oh Tracy. Thank God. I can't do this. Why didn't we just elope? How is Aziraphale? Is he ok? Why didn't we just get ready together? I hate this. Where's that flask?"</p><p>Tracy looks to Anathema. "Has he been doing this all morning?"</p><p>"He won't shut up."</p><p>"You didn't really give him a flask did you?"</p><p>"Oh God no. We had a single mimosa and then I made him brush his teeth so he wouldn't be tempted."</p><p>Crowley stamps his foot. "I'm right here you know!"</p><p>Anathema turns to him. "Trust me. We know." She circles Crowley to inspect his clothes and hair one last time as she continues. "How is Azi, though? Is he ready for me?"</p><p>"Nervous." Tracy grins at Crowley. "Handsome." Crowley smiles and drops his gaze. For a moment the tension drains off of his face. "He's ready as he'll ever be." She glances at the clock. "Give us five minutes and I’ll have him there."</p><p>Anathema gives Crowley's hand one last squeeze. "See you on the other side. Love you babe."</p><p>He squeezes her hand back. He used to think that was just something people said. He knows what it means now. How it feels. That it's true. "I love you too."</p><p>She disappears out the door and Crowley turns to Tracy with a desperate look on his face. She clucks at him. “Cut that shit out right now.” His mouth drops. “You’re nervous? Fine. You know how to handle that. You know what to do.”</p><p>He nods. Sometimes he needs Tracy’s tough love. A firm hand to snap him back into shape. He takes a long steadying breath and holds it. Concentrates on the feeling of his lungs filling up. On that little ache in the center of his chest. He exhales slowly. Empties his lungs completely and a little bit of that anxiety slips out with the air. He closes his eyes and does it again. Pictures an angelic smile and a halo of golden hair and his hands stop trembling. One more time and he feels the edges of the excitement that has been shrouded by his fear.</p><p>He opens his eyes and Tracy is smiling softly at him. “I’m so proud of you, Anthony.”</p><p>His brows climb up. “Oh no… don’t do this. I can’t start crying before I even get out there.”</p><p>Her forehead wrinkles and she wipes at her eyes. “You’ve come so far. You’ve done so well for yourself. And you deserve every moment of happiness to come.”</p><p>His chin trembles and he shakes his head. “Tracy…”</p><p>She laughs softly. “I’m so happy for both of you. So happy that you found one another. And I know that you’re nervous. But everything is going to be perfect. Do you hear me? Because no matter what, you're walking out of here married. And that's all that matters. You and him. That’s all that matters.”</p><p>He nods and sniffs and Tracy laughs again as she wipes a tear off of his cheek. “Ok, love. Are you ready?” He takes one more deep breath and nods again. She takes his arm and leads him toward the door. “Let’s get you married.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the delay between installments! I've been swamped. (But I miss you all &lt;3)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm always open to requests, so lay them on me!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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